The Moves of the White Knight
by mlr96
Summary: Gideon left. Dean sold his soul for Sam. Things with Bobby are just not the same anymore. So when SSA Dave Rossi comes back to the BAU and says he knew my parents, I'm not quick to let him in. But things that are much bigger than family friends are ahead, and I can't face them alone. Part 2/4 on my Chess series. Will contain Spoilers for Supernatural and Criminal Minds seasons 3-5.
1. A Familiar Face

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.  
><span>**

* * *

><p><strong>"There is nothing that can replace the absence of someone dear to us,<br>and one should not even attempt to do so.  
>One must simply hold out and endure it."<br>Dietrich Bonhoeffer**

I drove the blue car down a deserted street in the outskirts of Cambridge, Massachusetts, and towards a car garage. I could see the men staring at me, but I didn't care. I wasn't allowed to care. I was a woman, they were all men, and fear is a privilege I did not have.

Two days ago, and a couple of states away, I lifted a woman's bag from under her nose. Inside, I found accessories, money, and the big jackpot – car keys. I've been on the road ever since, only stopping for the occasional meal and shower, until I reached here.

I pulled over at the entrance to the garage and looked at the place. It was early morning hours, so the place was near empty, other than the workers. I exited the car and headed towards the man who looked like he was in charge.

"Are you Johnny?" I asked.

He turned around and looked at me. "Depends who's asking."

Smart. Confident but not over-confident. Good-looking and knows it. Untrusting and, most important, not trust worthy.

"Rumor has it you deal with cars." I said calmly.

"I run a garage." He replied.

"Every _kind_ of cars." I added.

"Well, I'd love to know where you heard that rumor." He said, a dangerous glint to his eyes. "Maybe someone has to lose a tongue."

"A little bird whispered in my ear." I said, reaching my hand to shake. "Hailey Mercury."

"John Murphy." He said, taking the offered hand and, to my surprise, lifts it to his lips. "What is a beautiful young woman like you is doing in a place like that?"

"I need to replace my car." I replied.

"Go to a car agency." He said.

"Most agencies don't want my car."

"Too wrecked?" He asked with a smile.

"Too stolen." I said. "Now, you look like a guy who can take a stolen car and… let's say _fix_ it, before moving it forward."

The smile fell off his face. "Look, kiddo, I don't know who you are –"

"I'm no 'kiddo'." I replied. "I'm a costumer, and I'm serious about this. This car," I marked to where the blue car parked, "if I stay with it, I'm busted in a week. And I can't afford that to myself right now. Take it, fix it, and sell it for a profit. All I ask in return is a clean one."

"Why do you need a car for?"

I looked at him and thought for a moment before replying honestly.

"I need a place to sleep."

He looked me up and down. "Ran from home to study?" He asked and I nodded. "Come back tonight after closing. Ill fix something up for you."

That was a week before I started Harvard, and a week after I left home. I was alone back then. Not even nineteen years old, thin as a stick and all alone. But I was determined and not to be messed with.

I worked my ass off until I saved up enough to start renting a place, and then worked even harder to keep it. I spent every free moment I had studying, not only to keep my scholarship, but to be first in the class. I made close to no friends, had only been in one relationship that hadn't lasted long but we parted on good terms. All in all, I was all by myself.

As I was after Gideon left.

Yes, I had my team; Hotch and Garcia, who recently learned about the childhood I had, were very helpful at that end. Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and Reid were my friends above anything else. And Bobby spoke to me again! But Hotch and Garcia weren't really a part of the world I grew up in. Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and Reid didn't really know who I was. And my conversations with Bobby were short and case-related only, because he was busy helping the boys, who didn't want anything to do with me.

The boys. _My_ boys.

My twin brother Dean – my better half. Caring, considering, and on the road to self-destruction. Or maybe he's already reached his destination, when he sold his soul to save Sam. He got a year in return, and now Sam is trying to save him.

Sammy – only twenty four years old and already been through so much. Already _lost_ so much. And in six months, he will be alone. He wouldn't as much as answer when I called. I stopped trying.

It really shocked me that when it came to John's last wishes, I was the one who obeyed and Dean wasn't. he asked me to stay away from my brothers until Yellow-Eyes was out of the picture, and when my brothers killed the demon, John's spirit asked them to forgive me. But they didn't.

So there I was, all alone in the middle of the BAU when they informed us of the newest addition to our team – one named David Rossi.

"Bobby, it's me." I said. There was background noise from the other end of the line before he spoke.

"Sorry 'bout that." He said. "What do you need?"

"Can't I just call to say hello to my favorite uncle?"

"Don't call me uncle." He sighed. "You never call unless you need something. Not unless you're in a hospital."

A smile crossed my lips. "I need you to check a name for me." I said. "It rings a bell but I don't know where from."

"Go for it, Peanut." He said. "What's the name?"

"SSA David Rossi." I said.

I could hear his surprise from the other end of the line. "Where did you come across Dave?"

"Wait," I paused, "you know him?"

"'Course I know him." Bobby replied. "Ex-hunter. Brought me cases from time to time. He was around quite often when you were a kid." Bobby paused. "John didn't like him much."

"John didn't like a lot of people." I said. "What about you?"

"He's a good guy." Bobby said, avoiding my question. "Gets the job done."

"But…?" I asked, hearing Bobby's tone.

"But he used your father as bait once."

I gasped. "Quite a 'but', Bobby."

"He gets the job done without casualties." Bobby said harshly. "That's what you need to know. Why are you asking me this, anyway?"

"Well, they've finally told us who they brought in to replace Gideon." I said. "Three guesses who."

"That bastard." Bobby said, the smile clear in his voice.

"I know." I said, by far less amused. Out the corner of my eye I saw Reid entering the bullpen area, wearing a Frankenstein mask. "I gotta go."

"'Course you do." Bobby sighed.

"I'll call you later." I smiled. "Take care." I added and hung up.

I go and sit down, laughing with Emily at the way Morgan jumped in fear when Reid scared him.

"To paraphrase from Celtic mythology," Reid said, "tomorrow night all order is suspended, and the barriers between the natural and the supernatural are temporarily removed!"

Emily smiled but I didn't so much. I have enough supernatural in normal days, I don't need any more, thank you very much.

"See, that right there is why Halloween creeps me out." Morgan said.

"You're scared of Halloween?" I asked.

"I didn't say I was scared," Morgan protested, "I said I was creeped out. There's a difference there, youngsters. You should look it up."

"What creeps you out about it?" Prentiss asked.

"I don't know." Morgan shrugged. "People wearing masks. I don't like folks in disguises."

"I get you there, man." I sighed.

"That's the best thing about Halloween." Reid said. "You can be anyone you want to be."

"Nah, I'm pretty good just being me." Morgan said.

"Yeah, why is it that neither of those points of view surprise me?" Prentiss asked with a smile. "Except for yours, Chessi, you look like someone who would love Halloween."

"I never liked it." I said. "I mean, from what little I experienced as a child. We didn't really do all those holidays in my family."

"You know what, though?" Morgan asked. "On the flip side, it does provide a pretty good reason to cozy up with a scary flick and a little Halloween honey."

"Halloween honey." Prentiss said as I pretended to puke. "Now _I'm_ creeped out."

"Guys," Reid said, looking above our heads, "he's here."

We all looked up to see who I assumed was Agent Rossi walking up with Strauss. Reid took off the mask that was still on his head as they walked past us and into Hotch's office. Rossi gave us a short, fake-looking smile, and seemed to leave his eyes on me longer than on the others.

_You're imagining it._ I told myself. _There's no way he'd recognize you as John's daughter._

We tried not to stare at them too much as they talked and when JJ came out and passed us, we pretended to be busy with paperwork. It was less than five minutes before they came out and approached us.

"SSA David Rossi," Hotch began, "this is SSA Prentiss."

"Sir." Emily said politely.

"SSA Morgan."

"It's an honor, Agent Rossi." Morgan said.

"Please," Rossi said humbly, "just Dave."

"SSA Chess."

"Chessi's fine." I say with a smile.

"And Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Sir, if I could talk to you later about your work with the Scarsdale skinner. Psycho-linguistics is an incredibly dynamic field, and the fact that your profile of his reading habits ultimately led to his capture - is something I find so incredibly intrig –"

"Reid, slow down." Hotch said with a smile. "He'll be here for a while. You can catch up with him later."

"Sorry." Reid said.

"No problem, Doctor." Rossi said.

"Maybe you guys can talk on the jet." I offered.

"Oh, yeah," Reid said excitedly, "that'd be great."

"The jet?" Rossi asked.

"We have a jet now." Hotch said.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. It comes in pretty handy." I said.

"Come on," said Hotch, "JJ's waiting."

We walked to the round room, where JJ was giving away papers on the desks. She started explaining but I only half-listened. Someone had raped and killed a woman, after he played mind games with her and posted missing signs with her face on.

Just as the screen showed the picture of the woman's dead body, face cut off, Garcia barged in.

"Oh my god!" She called, using the files in her hand to block the view. "What is that?"

"Technical analyst Penelope Garcia, this is SSA David Rossi." Hotch said, but Garcia clearly wasn't listening.

"Is it gone, JJ?" She asked.

"Yeah." JJ said, pressing a button and making the images disappear from the screen. "You're safe."

"Okay," Garcia sighed in relief. "Just, you, um…" She started giving information about the town the murder occurred in, but I didn't pay attention. All along, to the rest of the briefing, I watched only Rossi's face, checking his responses to anything that was said. When Hotch suggested he'd start working with the team on the next case, Rossi refused immediately. We got up and walked towards the parking lot.

"Hey, Morgan!" I called. "What to join me on Darlin'?"

"Sure thing, doll-face." Morgan said with a smile and I could see Rossi raises a brow at us.

Honestly, I couldn't care less.

* * *

><p>We were giving the profile. Nothing special, just like we did a hundred of times before. Rossi wasn't there, but I didn't mind – he wasn't helpful anyway, what with his small notebooks and the thoughts he kept to himself. It's better off without him.<p>

Oh, was I ever mistaken.

We hadn't even finished delivering the profile when we saw the news on the TV screen – the media had found out about the masks.

"JJ." Hotch said. "How'd they get that?

"Not from me." JJ said. "I, Hotch, I called all the local police departments and I stressed withholding the mask."

"I called them." Rossi said, walking into the room.

"What?" Hotch asked, surprised and amazed.

"I told them the FBI thinks the masks mean he's impotent."

We all stared at him for a moment, but Hotch seemed to be the first one out of his trance.

"Can I speak to you for a second?" He asked, and then took Rossi aside.

"Do you think he really did that?" Reid asked.

"Must be really stupid if he did." Morgan replied.

"Or a freaking genius." Prentiss said.

"I still don't understand why they had to bring somebody new in." I scowled. "We are doing fine, we don't need another member. Surely not one who keeps his thoughts to himself in that stupid notebook."

"Yeah, but, come on." Reid said. "The guy's brilliant."

"Is he?" Morgan asked. "I didn't get to see it yet."

"And I doubt it if we ever will." I added, just as JJ's phone rang.

"Garcia, you're on speaker." She said.

"Is everyone there?" Garcia asked. "You're gonna want to hear this."

JJ went to call Hotch and Rossi and we all sat around the table in the Police Department's conference room. All except Rossi, that is.

"Garcia, talk to us." Morgan said and Garcia started firing information.

"So, Michelle Colucci recently drew up the plans for a remodel of 3 floors of a company called Techco Communications." She said. "It's a high-tech communications company in downtown Dallas."

"And Enid White?" Hotch asked.

"Worked there until 2 months ago."

Detective Yarbrough entered the room, sever looking and worried.

"He's on 2." He said.

"The Unsub?"

"Demanded to speak to the FBI."

Rossi looked at us all before going to the table and pressing the button to receive the call.

"This is FBI Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi." He said.

"You called me impotent." A hoarse voice came from the speaker.

"Did I?" Rossi asked, sounding almost amused.

"I'm _not_ impotent."

"Why are you whispering?" Rossi asked.

"You lied." The Unsub said. "You lied."

"Is someone around you?" Rossi continued. "Are you at work?"

"You have to tell the news the truth." The Unsub said. It seemed as if the two of them are simply ignoring each other and I hoped Rossi had an actual plan – one that would keep Enid White alive.

"I'll get you on the news, and then you can correct me yourself." Rossi offered.

"No, you," the Unsub sounded stressed, "you, you correct it."

"By the way," Rossi said, "I was, um, looking at the police security tapes for the day Michelle Colucci went missing."

We all looked at him with surprise. I didn't know there were police security tapes to look at. Clearly, so did the Unsub.

"What?"

"You watched her long enough to know she didn't have visitors." Rossi said. "She was a loner. Yet you knew that detective Yarbrough was coming over. You must have been right here in this station when he told her. Now, your face is gonna be on one of those tapes, and when I find it, I'm going to paper this city with it, just like you did with those women." His voice became dangerously cold. "Everyone will see it. They won't be able to ignore you now. But you won't inspire fear," he said, "you'll inspire hatred and ridicule, because the only power someone like you has is a _mask_, and once that mask is removed, you'll be as insignificant as you've always been. A _loser_!"

There was silence at the other end of the line as we all waited to hear the Unsub's response. The tension was so thick you could cut through it with a knife. Finally, the man on the other end of the line spoke.

"You just signed Enid White's death warrant."

There was the sound of something being thrown at the other end of the line, and the call disconnected.

* * *

><p>The case ended that day. Less than an hour later, Rossi shot the Unsub. By the end of the day, Enid White was rescued. We got on the Jet and arrived at the BAU at the early hours of the next morning.<p>

We reached Quantico at 4am, local time. I remembered promising Reid to come to his place to watch a movie. I thought it had something to do with Halloween but couldn't recall which movie or why I agreed.

Walking to my desk to fill some paperwork on the case, I thought about what happened with Rossi earlier.

He did something terribly reckless and dangerous but it worked for him. He put innocent people in the line of fire, he ignored the rest of the group - he was a typical hunter who goes by 'trust nobody, work alone' method. But it worked for him.

I started understanding what Bobby said about him and when I recalled the event he told me about when Rossi used John as a bait, I wasn't surprised.

It described the man perfectly.

While we were doing paperwork, Rossi talked to Hotch and he came out just as Reid and I were done.

I stopped and looked at him for a moment, he stared right back at me and we both observed each other.

"Diana, are you coming?" Reid asked from near the elevator and I turned and nodded at him, turning to walk away when Rossi spoke.

"Diana, of course." I froze. "I knew you looked familiar." He smiled fondly at me. It was the first sign of affection –of _emotion_ - he showed since he joined the team. "Diana Winchester. I served with your dad in Vietnam."

"It's Chess now." I said coldly.

"Is it?" He asked. "Shame. Winchester suits you better. Speaking of which, how's John?"

"Dead." I said emotionlessly and exited the room unceremoniously, Reid following close after.

"You know him?" He asked.

"Kinda." I replied. "I checked up on him, case the name sounded familiar, apparently he was around when I was a child. I don't remember him, though."

"So can you tell us more about him?" Reid asked eagerly.

Unlike me he wasn't disturbed by the stranger that joined our team for no real reason, he was actually intrigued by him. He wanted to know all he could about the man who was a path maker in profiling, one of the first members of the BAU and the man who wrote the books he knows by heart.

Then again, he couldn't see the hunter that was hidden behind the agent, like I did. And hunters never meant anything good.

"Not much to tell." I shrugged. "Apparently he'd pop by from time to time, stay for less than an hour and leave. I don't even know what they talked about."

"They?"

"Rossi, Bobby, John."

"Rossi knows Bobby?" Reid asked, surprised. "How did they meet?"

"I don't know!" I called, annoyed. "John, probably. Rossi said they served together. Listen," I said, hoping I could make him stop, "there's no way he came after I was ten, otherwise I'd remember him."

"Do you know why he stopped coming?" He asked, curious.

"No, Spence, I don't." I sighed. "Can we stop talking about it? Please?"

Spencer was quiet. "Sorry." He finally spoke. "I know you don't like talking about your childhood."

I was silent for a minute or two before whispering, "I don't know what's worst, when I think of the bad memories," I looked at him, ashamed, "or the good ones."

"If you need something, I'm here for you, you know." He replied. "You can tell me everything."

I smiled sadly. "If only that was true."

He looked a bit put down so I put my hand in his and started walking away.

"Come on!" I said. "We have a scary flick to watch. After all, I wouldn't miss a chance to watch you scream in a lifetime!"

"Very funny." He said, but smiled anyway. "Miss 'Nothing-Can-Scare-Me'. I bet you could live _inside_ a horror movie and still not as much as blink."

"If I'm a character at a scary flick, who am I?" I wondered aloud.

"Um…" Reid pretended to think before replying. "The monster."

"Touché." I said. "Does that mean I can pick the movie?"

"No, thank you." Reid shivered from the mere thought. "I'd like to sleep this _year_, if you don't mind."

"Considering I'm the one you're gonna call at 1am, have it your way." I said, and we both laughed.

I turned to look behind me and saw Rossi standing there, looking after me with a heartbroken look on his face. I could only wonder what my dad had really meant to him, and what had happened that made him suddenly care _now_.

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:**** Part 2 is finally up! I am _so_ excited about it!**

**I wanted to say a special thank you to all of those who read this, I love you all 3**

**This part will include seasons 3-5 of both series, and that means SPOILERS so if you don't like spoilers, be warned.**

**Also, in this part we will have 3 important new characters. You can see the first one in this chapter already, care to guess who the second and third ones will be?**

**So that was it, the chapter, tell me how you like it.**


	2. Those You Thought You Knew

**A/N:****I wanted to thank you all for your support. For the first 24 hours, my mailbox was bursting wih emails about Favs, Followers and Reviews so I LOVE YOU ALL!**

**Enjoy this chapter. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.**

* * *

><p><strong>"The fascination of shooting as a sport<br>depends almost wholly on whether you are  
>at the right or wrong end of the gun."<br>P.G. Wodehouse, ****_The Adventures of Sally_**

I managed to avoid Rossi for about a week. I'd stick to other people so that he wouldn't be able to talk to me, partnered with the other members of the team whenever I could and fled the room if there was nobody there except for the two of us.

"Why don't you like Rossi?" Garcia asked one day, when I was helping get ready for the date she was having that night, with this guy named James.

"I don't… not like him." I said, and she raised a brow at me. "Okay, so I don't like him. So what? I'm allowed to not like people."

"What has he done to you?"

"He hasn't _done_ anything. He just…" I sighed, and came to a decision. If Garcia knows about hunters, there's no reason she wouldn't know Rossi's a hunter, right? "He's a hunter." I said. "He knew John and Bobby and he's a hunter. And I, I don't trust hunters. They're all fine until it comes to them or you and then they'll stab you in the back. You can only trust hunters if they're family."

"That's not a very optimistic way to think." Garcia said as I brushed her hair.

"That's not a very optimistic world." I replied. "It's realistic, and so am I."

"Maybe you should try optimistic." Garcia said thoughtfully. "Way more fun."

"There's only one thing I'm gonna be optimistic about." I said, turning her so that she could see her reflection in the mirror. "You are going to have the best date of your life tonight."

"Oh, Chessi." Garcia whispered. "Thank you."

"Uh-ah." I said. "No tearing, it will ruin your make up and I worked too hard on that."

"He should pick me up in about five minutes." She said, glancing at the clock. "What are you going to do tonight?"

"I have an important date with your Doctor Who Collection." I said. "It about damn time I will watch this show you and Reid won't shut up about."

"Well, you have three seasons to watch," Garcia said, picking up her purse and heading to the door, "I expect you to be done by the time I'm back."

"Yes, ma'am." I said jokingly. "Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

"I won't." She promised with a smile, and walked away.

I settled in front of the TV and started watching the show. At first, it seemed weird and bizarre, but the more I watched, the more I learned to appreciate the weirdness of it and it wasn't long until I fell in love.

I was somewhere between season two and season three when it happened, searching for something called a "Christmas Special" that I was warned I _must_ see or my life would be in danger. At first, I thought I imagined it, but then I looked out the window and saw the familiar figure lying on the stairs.

I left what I was doing and ran down to the street. I leaned on top of her and started CPR.

"Garcia!" I called. "Penny, come on, stay with me. Stay with me, Penny." I stopped what I was doing, scared to cause more damage and pulled out my phone.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"This is Supervisory Special Agent Chess, I'm outside the apartment of one of my fellow agents who's just been shot."

"What is your address, ma'am?"

I told her the address and she promised an ambulance was on its way.

"Thank you." I said. "Please hurry up."

I hung up the phone and tried to remember everything I learned about gun-wounds.

"Apply pressure." I told myself, putting my hands on her stomach and pressing until the paramedics arrived. "I was inside." I told them. "I heard the shot, but… I didn't see anything."

They started talking in medical language, spitting out terms I couldn't understand and trying to get her to comment.

"Is she gonna make it?" I asked, tears starting to pour on my face. "She's… she's my friend. Please tell me she's gonna make it."

"Ma'am." One of the officers said, pulling me aside, but I fought him, not wanting to step away."

"Her name is Penelope." I said.

"Ma'am," one of the Medics said, "please." I obliged and the officer looked relieved. "Thank you." The Medic said and I walked away with the cop.

"Ma'am, did you hear anything?" He asked.

"A gunshot." I said and he looked surprised. "I'm an FBI agent, she is, too. She's, she's my friend."

From behind me, I heard Garcia mumbling her name and sighed in relief.

"We work for the BAU." I said. "Our supervisor is SSA Aaron Hotchner."

"We're taking her to the hospital." Someone said and my head turned towards him.

"I'm coming. You can question me later," I told the officer, "I will answer all your questions but right now you need to let me in."

The officer looked at the paramedics and when one of them nodded in consent, I walked after them and entered the Ambulance. Garcia's hand opened and closed and I reached to hold it without hesitation, and relaxed as I felt it press back to me.

She hyperventilated and I freaked out, but I knew better than to try to say something. So I moved aside to let them do their work, not letting go of Garcia's hand for a moment.

We arrived at the hospital and they immediately took her out and towards the OR, leaving me to wait alone in the waiting room, my hands and shirt still dirty with her blood.

I fell on one of the couches and held my head in my hands until JJ and Hotch arrived. I looked up at them for a moment, and then curled back to a ball, letting them ask the doctors all the questions they want to know.

Reid came shortly after, and Prentiss and Rossi followed not long after. I could hear them talk with one another, but didn't comprehend the words they were saying. The scent of blood surrounded me, and I couldn't help but think that if I didn't panic, if I'd remember what to do, I could've helped more.

She could've had better chances.

"Where's Morgan?" Someone asked.

"He's not answering his cell."

"I'll call him again." Reid said, and walked out.

"What aren't you telling?" Rossi asked Hotch.

"I spoke to one of the paramedics who brought her in." Hotch said. "It doesn't look good."

"Chessi?" Prentiss asked, nearing me and putting her hand on my shoulder.

I jumped from the touch and looked at her with bloodshot eyes. "Don't touch me!" I screamed, pulling away from her and trying to avoid the rest of the team's looks. "Don't touch me." I started mumbling from my seat. "Don't touch me, don't touch me, _don't_ touch me."

"They can't update me yet." JJ said.

"Morgan's phone just keeps going straight to voicemail." Reid added.

"Where the hell is he?"

JJ and Prentiss sat across from me, holding each other's hands for comfort. Reid sat next to me, and I was grateful he didn't attempt on anything of that sort, for my hands were still dirty with Penelope's blood.

An unknown amount of time passed before Morgan arrived. I was still right where I was, curled to a ball on one of the chairs. Nobody tried to touch me after Prentiss, but I still flinched whenever they got too close.

"She's been in surgery a couple hours." I think it was Hotch.

"I was at church." Morgan said, sounding worried. "My phone was off."

"There's nothing you could have done being here." Reid said weakly.

"The police got any leads?"

"I spoke to the lead detective." Hotch said gloomily. "He doesn't think we'll get anything from the scene."

Morgan turned in anger and started pacing just as the doctor stepped out and walked towards us. "Penelope Garcia?"

Everybody except for me jumped to their feet. "Yes?"

"The bullet went in her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen." He said. "She lost a lot of blood. It was touch-and-go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries."

"So what are you saying?" JJ asked, worried.

"One centimeter over and it would have torn right through her heart. Instead, she could actually walk out of here in a couple of days. And I'd say that's a minor miracle. She needs her rest. You can see her in the morning." He then turned to look at me. "Miss Chess, right?"

I nodded slowly bringing my eyes to his.

"You did great work over there, applying pressure on the wound." He said. "I think it's safe to say you saved your friend's life."

My mind was trying to comprehend what he was saying but only got bits of this or that. I nodded again, hoping that was reaction enough before he stepped away.

The team started talking about what they should do next, and I assumed Rossi and Hotch were to go to the crime scene, because they walked away while everybody stayed where they are.

"Chessi?" Morgan asked cautiously, stepping towards me.

"I was at her place." I whispered. "I… I heard the shot. I thought I imagined it so I looked out the window, just in time to see him disappear behind the corner. I could've gone after him, I _should've_."

"You saved her life." Reid said softly.

"There was so much blood." I said. "I never thought about it. I… I took care of knife wounds before. Beating wounds. Even… even claws. But I never saw someone getting shot." I added. "There was just so much blood."

"Why were you there?" Morgan asked.

"I helped her getting ready for the date, and then stayed so she could tell me how it went." Tears rose to my eyes. "I told her it would be the best date she had ever had."

A warm hand was put on top of mine and I didn't try pulling it away. Morgan slowly brought me to my feet and took me to the bathroom, where he cleaned my face and hands from the blood. He borrowed a shirt from someone and waited while I threw my dirty one away before taking me back to where the rest of the team was waiting impatiently.

"She's awake." JJ said. "We wanted to wait for you before we came in."

"Are you up for it?" Morgan asked and I nodded shortly before we stepped in and surrounded Garcia's bed.

"Hi." She said, looking between us. "No tears. I'm afraid if I start crying I'll come unstapled."

"How are you feeling?" Morgan asked.

"Oh, confused, stupid, and in pain." She replied.

"Are you up for some questions?" JJ asked.

"I never saw it coming." Garcia whispered. "He seemed deliciously normal."

"You know him?" Reid asked and she turned to look at Morgan.

"You were right." She told him. "I should have trusted it."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's that guy I told you about." She said and my heart dropped in my chest. "The one I met at the coffee shop. I wanted to believe he was interested in me."

"Forget that." Morgan said, but she ignored him.

"I let my guard down."

"Do you have any idea why he would have done this?" Prentiss asked.

"Did he threaten you? Did he want something?" Reid offered.

"I just thought he liked me." Her voice broke and I stepped forward and held her hand, just like I did at the ambulance.

"Ok. Um we're gonna…" JJ looked between us all. "We're gonna come back in a little while."

"We need a name." I said softly, pressing her hand for reassurance.

"James Colby Baylor."

Everybody stepped out and I intended to follow when she held my hand tighter.

"Don't let go." She said.

"Okay." I replied, tears choking in my throat.

"You're wearing different clothes." She observed.

"I had to change." I said. "The other ones were dirty from… from…" I looked at my feet.

"Can you promise me something?" She asked.

"Anything." I said.

"Don't talk to me like a victim, all right?"

I looked at the sadness in her eyes and realized just how much it meant to her.

"We won't." I promised. "Never."

* * *

><p>Four days passed, with no lead whatsoever. Everywhere we tried looking turned out to be a dead end, and I was getting more frustrated as days passed by. That morning, I took out all of the cold cases in the area that involved a firearm from the last three years and started going through them, one by one.<p>

"What are you doing?" Prentiss asked, coming to sit next to me.

"The Unsub…" I said, closing a file that involved gangs and looking into one about a woman who was murdered inside her apartment, with no signs of breaking in found in the scene. "He knew exactly what he was doing, he might've done this before."

"You're thinking serial killer?"

"I'm thinking I would take whatever works for me right now." I sighed, putting the case-file down on the table. "We're getting nowhere."

Prentiss sighed. "Chessi, you need to give yourself a break."

"I can't." I said. "Not while he's out there, not while Garcia's still in danger."

"We don't know if she's really in danger." She noted.

"When have you ever heard of a serial killer who lets a victim get loose?" I asked.

"We don't know if this is a serial killer." Prentiss said.

"I do." I replied. "I just… I know it, alright?" She opened he mouth to reply but I ignored her. "I need to work." I said. "We've got a killer on the loose."

She looked at me sadly and walked out the room. I kept going through cold cases, one after the other. Some were immediately ruled out as hunts and some as gang wars, but I made a small pile of cases that might be connected to this one. About an hour later, I heard a soft knock on the door.

"Emily, I told you to go away." I said.

"I'm not Emily." Rossi replied. "Though I suppose you can see the resemblance."

I looked at him. "What do you want?"

"To talk." He replied.

"Tough luck." I said, bringing my attention back to the files.

"Is John really dead?"

"Yes." I said coldly, not bothering to look at him. "Nearly a year ago."

"I heard the rumors, I guess I just didn't want to believe." He sighed. "How are you coping?"

"Why would you care?"

"I..." He hesitated before replying. "I knew your mother."

I paused, but didn't look at him. Slowly, I turned the page in the file I was now entirely unable to read and pretended not to care. "Did you?" I asked in disbelief. "And _how_ did you know her, if you don't mind me asking?

"She came from a family of hunters and so did I." He said. "Our fathers were friends."

I dropped the forgotten file on the table. "My mom was _not_ a hunter."

"She was." Rossi replied.

"No. She wasn't." I repeated, and turned to stand up when he caught my arm.

"Trust me, Diana." He said. "I knew her."

"No. You didn't." I said. "Now let go of me."

"Diana-"

"No." I said again. "Get this clear into your mind. My mom was not a hunter. You don't know her, and you don't know _me_. So back off, and don't try to patronize me."

I took his hand off and headed out.

"We've been ordered to stop working the case." He said.

"_What?_" I asked. "Why?"

"Some encrypted files on Garcia's computer." He said.

"No, no, no." I said. "If she's in trouble because of me…"

"Why would she be in trouble because of you?"

"She knows." I said. "And so does Hotch and Strauss. A demon tried to attack me a couple months back and I had no choice but to tell them."

"You think this might be connected?" He asked.

"I have no idea." I admitted, walking out of the room. "But if it does, I need to fix this."

I walked into the conference room just in time to hear an unfamiliar man asking Prentiss and JJ, "What do you know about _how_ she was recruited to the BAU?"

"She hacked the systems." I said and the three of them looked at me with surprise. "She studied with Ash at Caltech." I shrugged.

"Right, I heard you are in contact with Asher." The man said. "He went off our radar for a while, do you happen to know why?"

"I do."

"Care to share with the rest of us?" He asked.

"Not really." I replied. "What were you saying about Garcia?"

He looked at me for a little while before explaining how after she hacked their records, they gave her a choice – join them, or go to jail. Then, the man took the box filled with the investigation files –_ our investigation files_ –and walked away. Prentiss and JJ jumped on me.

"Ash!" They called. "Call him, he can help us!"

"No, he can't." I said, heart aching from the still fresh wound.

"Why not?" JJ asked, confused.

"Because he's dead."

They looked at me, surprised.

"I'm sorry." Prentiss said. "We didn't know."

"It's fine." I said. "It's not like I told you or anything."

"So we've got nothing?" JJ asked.

"I wouldn't say nothing." I replied. "I think I'm starting to see a pattern between the cases I'm looking at. Hopefully I'll get something in a couple of hours."

"Go get some sleep in the meanwhile." Prentiss said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You haven't slept since she was shot."

"I will." I lied, walking towards the exit only to change direction at the last minute and sit back in the room with the files.

I am so close to a breakthrough, I can't afford distractions.

* * *

><p>"Where were you?" Rossi asked me when he walked into the room I sat in, reading files. "Why didn't you answer the phone?"<p>

"I'm so close." I said. "I can't stop now."

"The guy made another attempt on Garcia." He said. "She needed you for comfort and you weren't there!"

"I'm just finishing." I mumbled. "I got three, maybe four cases."

"What are you even doing?" Rossi sighed.

"Marking cases with similarities to this one."

He looked at me. "Call Reid, now."

"One moment." I whispered.

"Now, Chess. I'm your boss and that's an order."

I rolled my eyes and took my phone from where I threw it so it would stop bugging me. I called Reid and put him on speaker.

"Can Garcia hear me?" Rossi asked once Spencer answered.

"Yes, she can." Garcia said in a voice, which was slightly missing her usual cheerfulness.

"Chess, read the case names to her."

I told the names of the three cases I was down to and I could hear her gasp.

"Those are the cases!" She called. "Chessi, how did you know?"

"Know what?" I asked.

"That those are the cases I marked!"

I looked at Rossi, confused. "I'll explain later." He promised. "For now, what do all of those cases have in common?"

I looked at them thoughtfully before replying. "The same deputy responded to all three cases." I said. "Jason Clark Battle."

"That must be our guy." I heard Morgan say. I heard ticking from the other end of the line and could only assume Garcia was pulling the photo I was now looking at. "Is that him?"

"Yeah." Garcia said weakly and I walked out of the room.

My hunch didn't wrong me. I walked to the bullpen area and saw the man standing there, talking to this new technical analyst they brought in place of Garcia. I could see Hotch walking out of his office, looking at him and talking on his phone, with Garcia, most likely, though I wasn't sure. Rossi came after me and the both of us pulled out guns as he grabbed the nearest agent and pointed the gun to his head.

"You're a cop." Rossi said. "You know this isn't gonna end well."

"You're standing in the middle of the FBI Headquarters." Hotch said.

"You think I'm afraid of the FBI?" Battle asked, a frantic look in his eyes.

"I know how this is gonna end, and so do you."

"I'm a decorated officer." Battle said.

"That's right." I said. "And this is not how you want to be remembered. You're in control here. You write the ending. Your choice."

"The best minds in the FBI." He replied. "You can't even stop me."

And then, many things happened at once. Battle moved his gun from the agent and pointed it at me, Rossi stood before me as human shield, a shot was heard and Battle's lifeless body fell to the floor. From behind him, I could see JJ standing, her hands shaking, and her gun still clenched between them.

I stumbled backwards with fear and surprise, and then looked at Rossi.

"You…" I mumbled. "You were willing to take a bullet for me?"

"Yes." He said.

"Why did you do that?" I asked. "You weren't in the line of fire. Battle didn't see you as a threat, you weren't in any danger at all. Why did you risk yourself for me?"

"I told you." He sighed. "I knew Mary. I served with John"

"A hell of a lot of people knew my parents." I replied. "None of them puts themselves in danger for me."

"I listen to the Hunters' radio." Rossi explained. "Rumor has it that John is dead and that Dean sold his soul for Sam."

"Last I checked rumor has it that I'm dead." I restored. "You shouldn't listen to everything you hear."

"But it's true, isn't it?" He asked and I avoided his gaze. "John died in a car crash. Sam was killed by Yellow-Eyes and Dean brought him back, getting only a year in return. How much longer does he have?"

"Five months."

"And you're not coping, are you?" He eyed me. "Have you even tried to contact them?"

"I did." I said, annoyed. "They made it very clear they're not interested."

"But it's up to you, too." Rossi said. "You could've insisted, could've tried harder. You're shutting the world out in your stubbornness."

"And if I am?" I asked. "Why do you care, what do you mind? Why am I so important to you?"

"I made a promise to look out for you." He replied.

"Well, break it!" I said, enraged.

"I can't." He said.

"Why?" I asked.

"I made a promise in the name of God."

I rolled my eyes. "What does that even supposed to mean?"

"I'm..." he looked somewhere between embarrassed and ashamed, "I'm your godfather."

I stared at him. "Doing a pretty shitty job, aren't you?" I asked in a poisonous tone and he looked surprised. "What?" I asked. "Did you expect some sort of happy reunion? 'Oh, Dave, I'm so glad you came to help me!' Sorry, I don't do chick flicks."

"Alright. No... chick flicks then." He hesitated. "But I can tell you want to know about your mother."

I paused for a moment. "One question: Was she really a hunter?"

"She was." Rossi replied. "And she wanted out of the life. She did, for a while, with John."

"For a while." I repeated. "Until she didn't."

"The last thing she wanted was for her kids to be hunters." Rossi continued. "And you made it. You're out of the life."

"You're never out of the life." I said grimly. "Not for real. Not when you're a Winchester."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

"There's a demon after me." I said. "The same demon that is holding Dean's contract. And I don't know what she wants from me," I added, "but it can't be good."

* * *

><p><strong>Review!<strong>


	3. Seeing Beyond

****A/N:******** This is probably the longest chapter I have ever written... When I started writing it, I actually thought I won't be able to fill a chapter so I wrote an extra scene that I didn't even like... But then I finished and I saw I'm over 6k words so I deleted it.****

****Tell me how you like it!****

****PS: Would you like me to insert Rossi's POV or general POV from now to then?****

****Warning:******** This chapter inclludes physical and mental torture, rape and description of death.****

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.**

* * *

><p><strong>"A lie that is half-truth is the darkest of all lies."<br>Alfred Tennyson**

I built myself some sort of routine. Helping Garcia heal, watching Doctor Who with Reid, talking to JJ about the guy she's dating and sparring with Morgan at least once a week.

I wasn't not that cold to Rossi any more, but I still found it difficult to talk to him, too many open wounds are to be picked at and messed with. We ate lunch together occasionally, and he shared childhood memories of him and my mother.

She was two years older than him, he told me, but she never held it against him. They'd only meet occasionally, when his family would go to Lawrence, because her family never left the town.

"Your mother was one of those people who would make any dark room look just the tiniest bit less gloom." He said, and when I raised a brow at that, he told me their relationship was never romantic. "Our fathers pushed us in that direction, more than once. But we were just friends, and alright with it. I was the first she told about John, and even offered my help in helping them run away."

"Why didn't they?" I asked, eager for any kind of information about my parents.

"Samuel and Deanna died." Rossi said, and we fell silent.

That's how most of the conversations ended – someone died, got wounded or was grounded for disobeying orders. Funny to think that hunter fathers are alike everywhere and in every time.

Days passed and I counted backwards. Four months.

Three.

I drifted away from the hunters I was in contact with, counting on Rossi to pass on the cases that needs to be passed on.

When I'm down to only two and a half months until the payday arrives, I got a phone call from someone I haven't spoken to in years. It was not a relaxing call, either.

"You need to come here."

These five words cut like knives into my heart, when I heard Missouri say them.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I..." She sighed. "I can't talk about this over the phone."

"Is it Dean?"

"No." She said and I let out a relieved sigh before a worst scenario came to my mind and my heart skipped a beat.

"Sam? Bobby?"

"They're alright." Missouri relaxed me. "Everyone's fine."

"Then what is it?" I asked, confused.

She sighed again. "You'll understand when you get here."

"I'm on my way." I said, realizing it must be important and run to Hotch's office.

"Briefing is still twenty minutes away." He said, not taking his eyes off the paperwork he was dealing with.

"That's the thing." I said. "I need a couple of days off."

"What happened?" He looked up at me, worried. "Is everyone alright?"

"Yeah, it's just..." I didn't know what to say. _How am I supposed to explain it, if I don't know myself? _"I have some personal matters to deal with."

"Family-related personal business?" He asked. "Because those seem to be life-threatening."

"It's probably not life-threatening." I replied.

"_Probably_?"

I shrugged. "It's still me we're talking about." I said. "I'm going to meet a family friend who needs my help. Should be alright."

Hotch thought for a minute and then nodded. "Take as long as you need."

I walked to my desk and took my keys, intending to hop straight on Darlin' and head towards Lawrence, but I was interrupted by Reid.

"Where are you going?" He asked worryingly.

"Going to visit a family friend." I said. "Should be back in a couple of days."

"Is she the one who just called you?"

Damn. I didn't think he noticed.

"Yeah." I replied shortly.

"And you're just gonna drive all the way to… wherever she lives just because she asked?" Morgan asked.

"She's like family to me." I said. "I kept in contact with her even after I ran from home, and she didn't tell John." _Or, at least, I don't think she did._ I thought bitterly, but didn't say. "I owe her that much. I'll see you in a couple of days." I added, and walked out of the building before he could interrogate me any longer.

I drove to Lawrence, thoughts occupying my mind about returning to the town I was born in. I haven't been there since that day when I was almost four years old, and Azazel burnt my mother on the ceiling of Sam's nursery.

_You can do it._ I kept telling myself. _You are strong, and you can do it. Azazel is gone. That house is just a house. And besides, Missouri needs you so it doesn't matter._

I stopped at a convenience store a couple of miles outside Lawrence under the excuse of needing to buy myself something to eat when I was actually procrastinating the moment when I needed to enter the town.

"It's just a town." I told myself, walking out of the store and towards Darlin'. I was so occupied in my thoughts I didn't notice the man leaning on it until I was right next to it.

"Nice ride." He said.

"Thanks." I replied coldly, staring at him and waiting for him to move.

He didn't. Instead, he asked, "Ducati, isn't it?"

"Yeah." I said. "Scrambler model '71. And I'd really like it back, if you don't mind."

"What's the hurry?" He asked.

"I'm meeting with a friend." I said.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you were a bit late." He said with a smile. "I'm Jonathan, by the way. And you?"

"None of your business." I said. "Now move or I'm calling the cops."

"I really don't think you will." He said, pulling out a gun and pointing it at me. "Come with me quietly, or I'll shoot the pretty girl at the store."

I glanced behind me at the cashier who was talking on her phone, clueless as to what was happening right outside the store. She laughed at something the person on the other end of the line said, her eyes shining. She couldn't have been more than 20 years old.

Wordlessly, I looked at the man who referred to himself as Jonathan. He nodded towards a white car, which parked nearby, and I sat inside, giving him my bag in response to his harsh glare.

He threw the bag aside to one of the bushes and entered the driver's seat. When we were both seated, he reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out a small syringe. My eyes widened in fear but he stuck it in my arm before I could as much as protest.

The last thing I saw before the drug-influenced sleep fell on me was his wide, white-toothed smile.

* * *

><p>I was lying in a room. An oddly familiar room, though I couldn't think of why it was familiar.<p>

I was lying on a bed. My hands and feet were tied to it so tightly that I could barely move.

And I was naked.

I could comprehend those first three things when I woke up, and nothing more. Nothing at all. I didn't know why I was there, or who the man was who brought me here aside from the fact he referred to himself as Jonathan and that until I had received further information, which was highly unlikely to happen, he is a threat.

My heart was beating fast, so I forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths and calm myself down. I nearly managed to do so when the door opened and Jonathan walked in.

"Hello, beautiful." He said.

I opened my mouth to reply, but it was then when I realized Jonathan put duct tape over it, presumably in order to stop me from talking. With little choice left, I glared at him angrily.

"Just how I love them." He smiled. "Strong, beautiful women. How long do you think it will take me to break you? I can't wait to find out."

I shivered slightly but tried not to let it show. Was I abducted by a serial killer? Did the hunter just become the hunted? Did my team know what was going on, were they after him? Did I have any chance of leaving this place alive? All of those questions remained unanswered, as the traces of the drug he used to sedate me was still in my system, and it made the mere sound of his voice hurt my head like hammers were pounding on it.

He stepped towards me and I tried to get away, but my hands and feet were tied too tightly for that. He kneeled next to me and ran a soft hand over my cheek, causing me to flinch away from his touch. Next thing I knew, a knife was in his hand.

"I'm not going to kill you." He said. "Not yet, at least. What I am going to do now is to take off that little thing from your mouth. Do not speak."

With a single, swift movement, he cut through the duct tape and allowed me to breath from my mouth. Then, he started talking.

"Some people believe the best way to break someone's spirit is by torture." An odd look crossed his face. "The body can take almost everything you bring upon it if you want to keep the person alive. But when you take away the control over that body, you find something new." He looked at me as if an idea just crossed his mind. "What do you think will happen?"

"You will never break me." I said.

"We will see about that." He replied nonchalantly.

He started running his hand over my bare body, drawing patterns with his fingers. Every muscle in my body tensed, and my mind screamed at me to close my eyes, to block the reality out, but I knew it was just what Jonathan wanted, so I didn't.

In my small and defined even if insignificant way, I fought back. I refused to let him see he's getting to me, and stopped the intake of air as he grabbed my breast.

"So beautiful." He mumbled again, grasping my breast in one hand as the other travelled downwards and invaded my privacy entirely and completely. "Relax, honey." He said with a smile. "Who knows, maybe you'll even enjoy it."

"I highly doubt that." I said through gritted teeth.

The comment earned me a strong spank on my bare ass.

"Who said you can talk?" He asked angrily, the smile no longer on his face.

"Go to Hell." I said.

Rage filled him and he climbed on top of me as I focused my eyes at the ceiling and did my best to keep my expression blank. When he was over, he moved from where he was and forced me to look into his eyes.

"You should try to enjoy that, dear." He said. "Because that may be the first time, but it wouldn't be the last. Eventually, you will give up. They all do."

A serial killer, then. One that gets high on breaking women. If I wanted any chance of surviving this, I couldn't let him get to me, not at all. I switched into full profiler mode – realistic and emotionless, thinking about it like I'm just some victim I don't know in order to maintain my strength. My sole focus now was delaying my death enough so that my team could find me before Jonathan decided I'm broken.

"You will never break me." I repeated, and he replied me just the same as before.

"We will see about that."

The duct tape was put back into place as he went for a second round. And then a third, and a forth. It didn't seem like he needed to go somewhere anytime soon, and I wondered if it was night, if he hadn't had a job. I looked at the watermarks on the ceiling and at what I guessed to be a window covered in some unknown material. I counted the beats of my own heart.

I thought of anything I could, anything at all aside from the situation I was in and the man who was hovering over me.

At a certain point, I lost count of how many times he did it. And, fortunately, he seemed to get bored of my emotionless face.

He climbed off me and opened the door. The sudden light blinded me and brought tears to my eyes before I quickly blinked them away. He returned with bread and some water.

"Why should I eat anything you give me?" I asked coldly.

"Because if you don't, it means you've given up." He replied, a small smirk to his lips.

"How do I know you didn't drug the food?"

"Don't worry," he said, "I want you to be entirely aware of what you're about to go through."

I swallowed, an act that seemed to be a lot harder than it should, and agreed to take the food he brought me.

"Good girl." He said in a tone that made me want to punch him in the face. "I gotta go now, but I will be back soon." The annoying smirk returned to his face. "Don't go anywhere." He added, and walked out the door, leaving me in darkness

I count the time that passes by the "meals" I receive. Two more, after my first day, and my body is already broken, though I don't let it show. I know that the only thing that's keeping me alive so far is the fact that Jonathan believes that I'm still fighting, but when I burst to tears when I see him walk into the room I'm in, I know the end is near.

It is not the physical torture that caused me to break. It is not the mental games he's playing on me. It's even not the lack of privacy I've had since I was abducted.

It's when I finally recognized the room I'm in.

In retrospective, I know why it took me so long. After all, it's been years since I've been to Lawrence and even when I saw it in my dreams when Sam and Dean visited, it still didn't have the same effect as being there myself. It didn't have the same effect as noticing the glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling.

I could tell the address of the house I'm at, even without seeing it from the outside - 485 Robin Tree Street. And I could tell, without a doubt, that the room I'm in was the room Dean and I stayed at when we were kids, before Azazel killed our mother.

Jonathan smiled at the sight of my tears. "I told you, you will break," he said, "but don't worry, it will all end soon."

He pulled out a knife and started nearing me. My heart was beating hard in my chest as every cell of my body screamed to escape, to fight, to _live_. But I didn't have it in me any longer.

I didn't even know how I noticed the girl when she appeared. She wasn't there for a moment, and was there at the next. I looked at her, pleading for help as she neared Jonathan.

"Step away from her." She ordered severely, in a voice that was way too mature to belong to a girl so young.

He looked at her, shocked. "How did you get here?" He questioned, the knife still in his hands and too close to me for my liking.

"I said, _move_."

All Jonathan did was smile. "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into, girl."

"I am _not_ a _girl_." She said, flicking her wrist and sending him flying to the wall.

"What are you?" Jonathan growled.

"I'm your worst nightmare." The girl replied, and for a moment I saw her eyes flashing white.

"Lilith." I whispered, and she turned to look at me.

"Did he hurt you?" She questioned. "You must not be harmed."

A memory from the time I spent in the cabin with Tobias Hankle returned to me in the sight of Raphael, calling, "The Child of Creation must not be harmed."

"Why does everybody keep saying that?" I mumbled.

Lilith turned to look back at Jonathan, who was still plastered against the wall. "What did you do to her?" She asked. "What have you done?"

"I _raped_ her." Jonathan said proudly, and I realized that just as my way of rebelling was not letting him get to me, that this is his way of rebelling before his certain death. "I _broke_ her, and I _tortured_ her, and I –" He started choking and gasping for air. "What are you…" He started before needing to stop to catch his breath. "Stop… I… Breathe…"

The sound of the dying man filled the room and I couldn't help but think of the little good memories I've had from this house, and how they are all gone by now. By the looks of it, Jonathan suffered from something worse than suffocation. His eyes were wide open and filled with pain and a scream was attempting to escape his parted lips. Out of nowhere, his body went limp and the Demon let him drop to the floor with a thud.

"Nobody messes around with my playthings." She said before turning to look at me. "The Child of Creation. You shouldn't be placed in situations like this one. I should just take you with me and make sure you're safe. Well, relatively safe." She added as an afterthought. "But my orders were clear. You are untouchable. For the time being, at least. Your team is on their way." She said. "Should be here in about ten minutes."

She turned on her heel and almost left when I called for her, working on pure instinct.

"Wait!" I said, tears making trails on my face. "Why did you do it? Why did you save me?"

"I have my orders." She said coldly before her voice changed to what you'd expect coming out of the mouth of a ten year old. "Besides, I wouldn't want you half dead, Winchester." She said cheerfully. "Plaything are so much more fun when they fight back."

I opened my mouth to ask her another question but before I could, she disappeared. I was alone in the room, again. Chained to the bed and with a dead body less than three feet away from me. I wasn't sorry for his death, nor for the way in which he died. He was a horrible person, and as such, he died horribly. He deserved it, as he will deserve what he will get in Hell.

Hell. The mere thought brought the memory of Lilith back to my mind and suddenly, the strong, dreadful smell of sulfur filled my nostrils.

My stomach twisted and I turned my head aside to let what little food I had in my stomach get out. I felt dirty, and exposed, so when the door opened, I called out.

"Don't look at me!" Tears fell on my cheeks once again, it seemed like I was unable to stop crying. "I don't want you to see me like that."

"I've seen you drugged and unconscious on the floor in Tobias's cabin." Reid said. "I highly doubt seeing you like this will make me think any less of you. Guys!" He added, calling outside. "She's here." He turned to look at me again. "Cornell?" He asked and it took me a moment to realize that must be Jonathan's name.

"Dead." I said coldly.

He nodded shortly before untying the ropes that attached me to the bed and getting me a blanket to cover myself with.

"Everything's going to be okay." He mumbled softly. "You're safe now. You're lucky your friend came to us when she did."

"My friend?" I asked, confused.

"Missouri." Spencer said. "She said you were on your way to her house and never arrived."

The blood froze in my veins. Missouri. She knew this was going to happen, she must've known. She knew all along and she still asked me to come.

Morgan entered the room and tried to lift me up but I stopped him.

"I can walk." I said.

"Chessi, your body needs to rest –"

"What I _need_ is to walk." I insisted and slowly pulled myself out of the room before looking inside once more.

"What's the address here?" I asked.

"485 Robin Tree Street." Rossi said from behind me, confirming my worst assumptions.

I pointed at the wall across from where the bed I was lying on sat.

"My bed was here." I said. "And Dean's there. Down the hall," I marked to the direction I was saying, "was my parents' room. I used to steal my mom's jewelry, and she pretended not to notice. The nursery was here." I ran my hand against the dark wood of the closed door. "Almost every night John would ask me and Dean if we thought Sammy's old enough to throw a ball."

I looked at my team who were all looking at me, and listening to what I said. "Dean and I played hide and seek in the yard while mom cooked us dinner. I got tired faster than Dean did, so sometimes I went to bed earlier. Like the night of the fire."

I swallowed hard and tried not to think of all that happened in this house. "We heard a scream, mom's scream and ran to this hall. John gave us Sammy and told us to run. I tripped and fell, I barely made it out of the house, but John grabbed me at the last moment." My voice broke. "I was four."

"Let's get you out." Someone said, lifting me up. This time, I didn't object as they spoke of a hospital and put me in an ambulance.

"Someone call Bobby." I mumbled, unsure if I were even heard before I lost consciousness.

* * *

><p>"Let me out." I coldly told Hotch as I was standing in front of the door, still in my hospital gown while he blocked out the exit.<p>

"No." He said calmly.

"I'm going." I said. "And you know you can't stop me forever."

"I can try."

I sighed. "Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Because I know if I'll let you out you'll go visiting them." He replied.

"Of course I'll go visiting them!" I called. "They've gotten themselves arrested! It might be the only chance I have to speak to them since they won't answer the damn phone!"

It's been over a week since Jonathan died. I was still admitted to the hospital, under Hotch's orders, but after Bobby left to take care of a Vamp in Wisconsin, I started losing it.

"You don't get it, Hotch." I said. "Being stuck here, alone, for hours at a time, it drives me mad! And now that Henriksen got Dean and Sam, I _have_ to go see them."

"You're motivated by pain and trauma." Hotch said. "You're not thinking rationally."

"So what?" I asked. "They're my _brothers_! I can't just stay here!"

"You can and you will." Rossi said from where he sat behind me on one of the chairs.

I turned to glare at him. "You can't tell me what to do." I told him.

"Actually," he said, getting up and nearing us, "we can. We're your bosses."

"You sure act like a hell of a lot more than that." I sneered.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Trying to be a father figure to me?" I mocked. "To fulfill your job as my Godfather? Oh, please. Where have you been twenty-three years ago, when mom _died_?"

"Enough." Hotch cut us off. "Dave, please step out of the room, you're not helping. Chessi, you are to stay _within_ the room or I'll have you tied up and sedated. Clear?"

"Yes, sir." I said, annoyed, and hopped back on my bed.

Dean and Sam were in police custody for a couple of hours already, and I knew that if I want to see them before they make a run for it or some supernatural creature will slay everyone, I had to go now. But, an order's an order, and the time that took Hotch to accept the oddness of my relationship with my brothers is _clearly_ not enough for him to understand my desire to see them.

"Why can't I go see them?" I whined.

"You know why." Hotch replied. "Henriksen is waiting to put you away with something for nearly a year now, and walking in there would just be another excuse for him."

"Not a year." I said. "Nine and a half months. I know _exactly_ how long has passed since that night."

The night Ash died. The night Dean sold his soul. The night the Yellow-Eyed Demon was finally killed and with him, every chance I had to see my brothers again.

"I know you know." Hotch said. "That's how I know you've been counting down the days so you also know it's only been a week since you were…" He trailed off, not wanting to complete the sentence. None of my teammates did. They all just thought that if we ignored it, it's like nothing's wrong.

And _I'm_ supposed to be the Winchester here.

"You're keeping me posted." I said.

"Of course." Hotch said.

"I mean it." I warned.

"I know."

"No hearing about bullshit from the news." I elaborated, so that he won't try to pull any stunts. "No pretending or faking. And on no condition are you allowed to try and go soft on me. Just pour it all, no filters."

"I will." Hotch agreed.

"Fine." I said before mumbling, "I'm gonna drive myself _mad_ in here."

"I'll bring Reid in to distract you." Hotch promised. "And keep Rossi out."

"Send Missouri, too." I said. "I haven't had a proper talk with her since before Jonathan took me."

He flinched at the casualty in which I spoke of the event, but said nothing, agreeing to send the psychic in as he went out. Less than five minutes later, Missouri was already there. She probably knew I wanted to talk to her, as it didn't take psychic powers to see I was pissed.

"Before you say anything," she started, "I want to try and explain myself."

"Go ahead." I said bitterly. "I'll still be mad."

"I know." Missouri said and sighed. "It's like 'Spinning Doors'. The movie." She added as she saw I wasn't following. "I saw two possibilities of what might happen. In one of them, two innocent women were brutally murdered. In the other..." She trailed off.

"I was raped." I completed the sentence for her. "And you just decided to choose for me."

"I decided to do what I thought was best." She defended.

"Well, I'm sick of people making decisions for me." I said, thinking of what happened just minutes ago with Hotch and Rossi.

"Would you have done it?" Missouri questioned. "If you knew, would you agree?"

I looked at her coldly. "I guess we'll never know." I said, clearly sending her off. As she walked out, she passed Reid who was just coming in, and he looked at us both with confusion.

"What was that about?" He asked.

"What did Missouri tell you?" I asked in reply.

"What?"

"When she came to the station and reported me missing," I said, "what did she tell you?"

"That she was a friend of yours," Reid replied, "and a psychic, and that she saw a vision of you getting kidnapped."

A sneer crossed my lips. "Did she tell you when?"

"When you were taken?" He asked, confused.

"When she had the vision." I corrected. "The night before. She knew what the options are and chose the one with fewer casualties."

"She knew this would happen if you came?" He asked, shocked.

"She knew this would happen and _asked_ me to come."

"Did..." Reid looked like he doesn't know how to complete the sentence.

"I didn't know." I said bitterly. "And I can't even stay mad at her."

"What?" He stared at me. "Why?"

I shrugged. "She's family."

"I thought she said she's a friend." Reid said, annoyed.

"You know just as me, Spence. Family don't end with blood."

We fell into a sort of comfortable silence, the kind I could only have with Reid as he was the only one to automatically sense when I needed to take a break from everything else and use the comfort of his presence alone. The clock was ticking, the minuets passed by and after what felt like eternity, Hotch returned with an update.

"What's going on?" I asked, seeing the odd look on his face. "Is everyone alright?"

"No." He replied and I tensed. "You should turn on the TV, Chessi." He said and I picked the remote with a trembling hand and opened the first news channel that came to my mind.

'Explosion at Monument County Sherriff's Office.' The headline read and I turned up the volume to hear what the reporter was saying.

"Authorities believe it was a gas main ruptured, causing the massive explosion that ripped apart the police station and claimed the lives of everyone inside." She said. "Among the deceased are at least six police officers and staff, including Sheriff Melvin Dodd, Deputy Phil Amici, and Secretary Nancy Fitzgerald, as well as three FBI agents, identified as Steven Groves, Calvin Reidy, and Victor Henriksen."

My heart fell at that last part and I almost broke when I heard the reporter finishing her story.

"Two fugitives in custody were also killed." She said and I dropped the remote, not caring about the rest of the world as the thing I feared most was happening.

_Was it true?_ I asked myself, knowing I will not have an answer until I fell asleep. _Can it be true? Are my brothers really dead?_

* * *

><p><em>"I know you're not dead." I was dreaming. I must have been dreaming because I heard the sound of my own voice coming out of the speaker on Dean's phone, and as always, my dreams are Dean's life. "Please pick up." I added, as I did every time I called them, which hadn't been for months.<em>

_Dean kept his gaze fixated on the road ahead of them._

_"I miss you guys. I need you. I've been… I was abducted last week." From the corner of Dean's eye, I saw Sam glanced at him worryingly but Dean ignored it. "It was bad. I nearly died. And he took us to our old house, in Lawrence. I know about the deal, and I know there's not much time left. Lilith is after me, too, and I… I can't face her alone. Please call me back." I finished up. "I love you."_

_There was a beep marking the end of the voicemail and Sam looked at Dean._

_"Should we call her?" He asked._

_"It's not like she bothered calling us when we needed her." Dean said poisonously, his words cutting through my heart. "She's only calling when she needs something."_

_"She's been calling since you sold your soul." Sam pointed out._

_"That's what it takes for her to be back in contact." Dean sneered. "Me selling my soul. Should've done that years ago."_

_"Dad wanted us to forgive her." Sam said. "And Bobby said the only reason she didn't contact us earlier was because Dad told her not to."_

_"So the first time since she's 15 she listens to him is when he tells her not to talk to us?"_

_"When he tells her to keep herself safe." Sam corrected. "And keep her friends safe."_

_"Well, I don't care what Dad told her." Dean summed it. "And I don't care about her."_


	4. The Choices We Make

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Criminal Minds or any of the songs mentioned.**

* * *

><p><strong>"I have come to understand that sometimes<br>the best families of all are those we create ourselves,  
>the people we choose to be with."<br>Silas House, Eli the Good**

Days passed by and turned into weeks. Rossi dealt with his 20-year-old cold case and the team learned to trust him a little more. I feel like I already know him better, but I still didn't trust him.

I didn't really trust anybody these days. The clock is ticking, the countdown is running and when the day I dreaded arrived, I was a total mess.

We were called to New-York, to assist with the cases of several men and women who had been shot in the head, point blank in broad daylight. Since we arrived, there have been another couple of murders, the latest one involving a reference to the DC Sniper case – the Tarot card of Death. I looked at the board where we put all the information about the case, and tried to figure out what didn't fit in.

"Detective," Rossi said from behind me, "the 'Son of Sam', this case still pisses you off like it was yesterday."

"Yeah," Detective Brustin, one of the local officers, replied, "it does."

"There have been a lot of killers in this city." Rossi said. "Why him?"

"He was laughing at us and we couldn't catch him." Brustin explained. "The only way we grabbed him was through a parking ticket."

"What are you thinking?" Reid asked.

"He hasn't contacted us again." Rossi mumbled.

"So?"

"This doesn't fit." I said.

"These Unsubs are organized." Rossi explained. "They use pre-surveillance. They strike in the heart of the day and yet they haven't done anything to seek out media attention. And then this." He took the Death card off the board.

"You said it was to tell you they knew you were here." Brustin said, half accusing.

Rossi said something in reply, but I wasn't listening any more. Instead, I started singing an old song I once heard.

"Oh, Death. Oh, _Death_. Oh, Death.  
>Won't you spare me over 'till one more year?"<p>

Behind me, silence fell on the trio who were no doubt looking at me.

"But what is this, that I can't see,  
>With ice cold hands taking hold of me?<p>

When God is gone and the Devil takes hold,  
>Who will have mercy on your soul?"<p>

"Is she alright?" I heard Brustin asking Rossi and Reid.

"I think she needs to let it out." Reid said quietly.

"Diana?" Rossi asked, nearing me. "What's going on?"

"No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold,  
>Nothing satisfies me but your <em>soul<em>.

Well I am Death, none can excel,  
>I'll open the door to Heaven or <em>Hell<em>."

My singing turned frantic as I neared the end of the song, and I looked at the clock to see it was midday. Twelve hours left and the clock is running out.

"Oh, Death. Oh, _Death_.  
>My name is Death and the end is near…"<p>

I looked up and pointed at the card.

"The Tarot card symbolizes change." I said, trying to organize the thoughts in my head and keep my mind away from the topic of my brothers. "It is, oddly enough, a card of transformation and new life."

"So?" Rossi asked. I could see in his eyes he still wasn't entirely sure I'm not insane.

"If you reverse it, it means that you are on the verge of major change but resisting it. You're carrying harmful aspects from the past that may interfere with the opportunity you have for a new beginning, refusing to accept change and resisting any element of change that may arise in your life."

"I think I get where you're heading." Reid said.

"I don't." Brustin said.

"Don't worry." Rossi smiled. "They usually explain."

"They're ramping up to something," I said, "and they want us to know that they're watching us."

"If you saw all of these traits completely out of context," Reid followed my state of mind, "what would be the first profile to pop into your head?"

Fear seemed to cross Rossi's face as he realized where we were heading. "Who do we have out on the streets?" He asked and Reid and I immediately ran to call Garcia.

"Talk." She said.

"Garcia," Reid asked frantically, "do you have eyes on everyone on the team?"

"I can get them."

* * *

><p>Terrorism. Out of all the things that could've happened the night Dean is sent to Hell, we are dealing with a terroristic group in the middle of one of the biggest cities in the country.<p>

"Chessi?" Morgan asked as we walked towards the black SUV, about to brief Homeland Security. "Are you okay?"

"Not really." I said. "But, then again, there's not much I can do about it."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes." My answer seemed to surprise both of us. "Dean."

"I thought he was dead." Morgan said, confused.

"He isn't." I said. "But he will die tonight. There's nothing I can do about it, but I keep thinking I should be there."

"Can I ask how do you know he will die tonight?" He asked. "How do you know he's still alive?"

"I…" I sighed. "I can't tell you. Sorry."

"So what's on your mind?" He asked.

"Should I go and see him?" I asked. "He doesn't want me there, I know that. But should I still go? Or should I stay here?"

"I can't make that choice for you, Chessi." Morgan replied.

"It doesn't seem fair." I mumbled. "Why am I the only one who has to pick entirely between both her families?"

"You count us as family?" Morgan asked.

"Don't sound so surprised, Derek."

"I know you." He replied. "Or, your type, at least. You're like me, you're not quick to trust people. You say we're your family but you kept the fact that Dean's alive from us all."

"Not all of you." I said.

"What?"

"Rossi knew." I sighed. "As it turns out, he knew my mother, and he's my Godfather, and I told him."

"But still," Morgan insisted, "he's the closest thing you have to your real family here, but you still don't trust him entirely. You need to pick, Diana, once and for all – are you still a Winchester? Or are you a Chess?"

* * *

><p>We were driving in the middle of New York City, the sirens blowing at my ears as Morgan all but flew towards the area where we heard the explosion was. Both of us were too stressed to talk, so it was a welcome noise to hear my phone ringing. I answered without checking the caller's ID and put it on speaker.<p>

"We're still here." I said and I could almost hear Garcia's sigh of relief.

"Yes, you are." She said. "Thank god."

"We're almost back at the federal building." Morgan said. "What the hell's going on?"

"All right," Garcia said, "we're going over the closed circuit footage right now."

"Who else have you checked on?" I asked, nervous.

"You're the first. Rossi and Reid called me."

"Well, keep us on the line while you check on everyone else." I said.

"Is everyone ok?" I heard Emily's voice asking and let out a sigh of my own.

"I've spoken to Rossi and Reid," Garcia told her, "and Morgan and Chessi are on the line."

"Emily, where are you?" Morgan asked.

"I'm following detective Brustin to one of the NYPD's critical incident command posts."

"One of them?" Garcia asked.

"Yeah, after 9/11 they decentralized." Morgan explained. "They had way too many eggs in one basket on that day."

"Has anyone talked to JJ?" I asked.

"She was headed back to the hotel." Emily said.

"In an SUV?" Garcia asked.

"I think so."

"Stay with me a minute." Garcia told us. "I'll dial her mobile."

"_This is Agent Jareau_," the voicemail said, "_communications director for the FBI's Behavioral_ –"

The line suddenly went dead and I called, "What was that?"

"What happened?" Morgan asked.

"It went dead mid-message." Garcia mumbled.

"Try here again." Emily called. "She's probably back at –"

Her line went dead, too and then ours as well and I looked at Morgan, nervous.

"How long?" I asked.

"Two minutes." He replied.

"Make it one."

It wasn't long before Morgan turned into a street and we saw officers and SWAT teams had settled behind a barrier to an empty street.

"Who's in charge here?" I called as we all but jumped out of the car.

"Captain Warner." An officer said and we headed towards the man he pointed at.

"Captain Warner." Morgan said.

"We got people down there –" The man said but Morgan cut him off.

"Captain Warner, I'm Agent Morgan, this is Agent Chess, FBI."

"We're looking for Agent Hotchner," I said, "Aaron Hotchner."

"Go back to the federal building." Warner said. "There are EVAC Marshaling spots. Check in to make sure they know where you are."

"I am not about to do that." Morgan said.

"Get out of my face or I'll have you bodily removed, Agents."

"Please, we're here!" I heard the yell from the middle of the street and panicked.

"Hotch!" I called.

"The area's restricted." Warner said.

"That's our boss down there." Morgan said.

"My orders are what they are." Warner insisted.

"I don't give a damn what your orders are." Morgan spat.

"I get it, Agent." Warner explained. "But we've been told by you responders are the targets. So until the blast site is cleared, no one goes in."

"You're Marine Corps, right?" I asked. He avoided my gaze so I repeated, "right?"

"Please," Warner looked as if he'd had enough of us, "go back to the marshaling point."

"We're not doing it." I said. "I was raised on Marine values and I'm not just gonna let my man lay down there like that. Never leave a man behind." I continued, ignoring Hotch's cries for help. "You do remember that, don't you?"

"We're here!" Hotch called again. "Please!"

Warner looked at us for a moment before sighing, "Ok," and letting us through.

We ran there and immediately fell on our knees next to Hotch and Agent Joyner, who was with him when the car exploded.

"Hotch!" Morgan called.

"We've got to get her out of here." Hotch said.

"They're not letting any ambulances down here until they clear the scene." I said before noticing the young man who was with us. "Kid, you gotta get behind the barricades."

"Let's go." Morgan said. "Go!"

He waited until Hotch told him to go as well, before finally running away, muttering, "good luck," on his way.

"Talk to me." I said. "Can we carry her?"

Hotch didn't reply.

"Hotch," Morgan said harshly, waiting for our boss and friend to look at him before speaking. "Can we carry her?"

"No," Hotch mumbled, "I tried. Guys, she's gonna bleed to death if we don't get her out of here."

"Not if I have a say about it." I said.

Years of patching up hunters returned to my mind as I started working by instinct. I vaguely noticed Morgan starting to run off after the kid, apparently, he was the one who planted the bomb, but I didn't really notice. I raised her beck and lifted the torn shirt, pressing where I thought the bleeding was coming from.

"Take the hairpin out of my hair." I said.

"What?" Hotch asked, confused.

"Just do it!"

He did as I asked, even if somewhat confused, and handed the pin over.

"Replace my hand." I ordered, moving aside to give him space to follow my orders. He replaced me and I took off my shirt, leaving only a tank top on. I rolled the shirt around itself and used it as a bandage around agent Joyner's torso.

"What are you doing?" Hotch asked.

"Trying to save her life." I replied.

"How do you even know how to do that?"

"You wouldn't believe what I saw at Bobby's." I said. "I treated far worst."

He raised a brow but said nothing and soon enough, Joyner regained consciousness.

"How are you, honey?" I asked.

"I need to go." She mumbled. "I need to… I need…"

"Talk to her." I half mindedly told Hotch. "Distract her."

"What should I say?" He asked, nervous.

"Talk about…" I trailed off when I saw the bandage wasn't holding up.

"Have I told you about Jack?" Hotch asked Joyner and she shook her head. "He's my son. He's turning four in October, and he's the cutest kid in the world."

"I bet he is." Joyner mumbled.

"He has the most beautiful brown eyes." Hotch continued. "Haley says they're just like mine, but I know he got them from her. The way the shine when he smiles, it's all Haley."

"Good, keep talking." I mumbled as I pressed hard against her back, pushing away the worry at the fact she didn't acknowledge the pain.

"JJ, our media liaison, she's pregnant, too. We all found out last night. She has blue eyes, but I bet her baby will have brown eyes, like his father. He worked a case with us nearly a year ago."

"More than a year." I mumbled, causing Hotch to look at me.

"Chessi, what is the date?" He asked worryingly.

"You know the date, Hotch." I said, just as a paramedic arrived.

"She's got an arterial bleed in her back and I'm doing my best to hold it closed, but it won't." I told him. "She lost consciousness earlier, but regained it about a minute ago, and she doesn't have sensation in her lower back and feet."

"Is he okay?" The paramedic asked, gesturing at Hotch.

"I just want to get her out of here." Hotch said.

"Her pulse is weak." I added.

"I'm gonna need both of you to help, okay?" The paramedic asked and Hotch nodded.

"Is the area clear?" I asked.

"He was calling for help and I couldn't listen anymore." The paramedic said. "My partner was too afraid to come in here with me."

Hunter instincts told me not to trust this man, to get away and push him away, but I also knew he was our best chance to keep Joyner alive so I pushed the feelings away.

"Kate, we're gonna get you out of here." I said. "You're on the way out of here."

* * *

><p>We had just found out that the ambulance in which Hotch and I had arrived was rigged. The team ran off to inform the head of security, the man who nearly stopped us from entering. I followed them for a moment, before I turned to the staircase, pulled my gun and ran downstairs. I knew enough to tell he wasn't going to help us, and knew that we can't stop the bomb from exploding.<p>

The least I could do is make sure everybody would be safe.

I jumped the steps, three at a time, stopping at every sound and waiting for footsteps to walk past me before heading forward again. I found the ambulance quickly and jumped to the front without checking if the bomb really was there.

I knew it was.

I looked around me for keys for a moment, but gave up rather quickly and started wiring it. It wasn't the first time I did it, but it has been a long time since the last, as I was attempting to keep my record clean in order to avoid trouble when I attempted to join the FBI.

I blocked the world out as I worked, so I didn't notice the presence of someone else in the ambulance. Oddly enough, he didn't notice me, either, until the car went on and I pulled out of parking.

"Who is it?" A familiar voice asked.

"Morgan?" I called with surprise.

"Chessi?" He asked. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" I asked desperately.

"I asked first."

"I was here first." I could see a man looking at us through the rearview mirror. "Questions later." I said. "I suppose I can't talk you into getting out?"

"Heck, no." He said. "I'm staying here."

"Hold on tight, then." I said, and launched forward, driving out of the parking lot and into the street. "Where should I go?"

"Garcia, I'm putting you on speaker." Morgan said and soon enough, I heard the technical analyst's voice filling the car.

"One day I will kill both of you." She said and I smiled.

"Let's live through today first." I said. "Where to?"

"Head north and floor it." She said. "I'll tell you where to turn."

"That's good." I mumbled, breaking traffic laws without thinking.

"Turn left," she said, "and then immediately right."

I did as she said and nearly sent Morgan flying at the back door.

"Geez, Chessi, where did you learn to drive?" He asked.

"At a salvage yard." I said. "Plenty of room to practice."

"Be careful, would you?" He said. "There's a friggin' bomb in here."

"Oh, is there?" I asked sarcastically. "Thank you for that input, I didn't notice."

"Chessi, drive to the opening and then both of you get the hell out."

"Distract her." I ordered and Morgan was quick to obey.

"There's something I really want you to know, Garcia." He said.

"Save it." She replied. "Just get out."

He looked at me and I shook my head, mumbling slowly to myself.

_"Oh, Death. Oh, Death. Oh, Death"_

"No, no, no," he said, "we're not quite there yet and I won't leave Chessi alone."

"Guys –"

"Just listen to me." He sighed.

_"Won't you spare me over 'till another year?"_

"Morgan, please."

"You know what you are, Garcia?" He asked just as I opened the door.

"Now!" I called and jumped out moments before the bomb exploded, the blast sending me flying forward.

"Morgan!" I could hear Garcia's desperate call through the phone speaker as I hit the ground. "Chessi?" She sounded almost crying.

I stood up slowly just in time to see Morgan doing just the same, adjusting his earpiece so that he can talk.

"Garcia, I'll tell you what you are to me." He said. "You're my God given solace. Woman, you promise me one thing; whatever happens, don't you ever stop talking to me."

"I can't right now," she said, "'cause I'm mad at you."

A smile crossed my face, mirroring the one of Derek's as he laughed at her words.

"I can wait." He said.

"Is Chessi alright?" She asked.

"All good." I replied. "Go check on everyone else."

"I will." She said and hung up.

Slowly, I stepped closer to Morgan.

"That was stupid, what you did back there." I said. "You should have left earlier, should have got off the ambulance the moment you saw I got it."

"I wouldn't leave you alone." He replied.

"Was that what this was all about?" I asked. "Not about making sure I got it right?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked, offended.

"Nothing." I said. "It's just all nice and peachy saying I don't trust the team when you don't, either. Don't try and get away with it, you know I'm right. You said it yourself, I'm like you."

"I trust the team!" He protested.

"Do you?" I asked nearing him. "Reid would trust us with his life. And God knows today is the proof that Hotch will, too. If you needed to put your life in their hands, would you?"

"Would _you_?"

"I already know my answer, Derek." I said. "Came to peace with it ages ago. Now's your turn."

"We should head back to where everybody else is." He said.

"Yeah," I sighed, "we should."

He walked away without looking at me and I followed him silently, wanting the silence as much and maybe even more than he did.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Hotch was walking out of the hotel, suitcase in hand and heading for the car when I ran to him.<p>

"Here," I said, "let me."

"Chessi…" He begun but I cut him off.

"Don't 'Chessi' me. A car exploded less than two feet away from you and you just lost a friend." I said, regarding to Agent Joyner. Despite my efforts, she died and it hurt. I could only imagine what Hotch was going through. "No way am I letting you drive."

"Don't you have anything better to do?" He asked.

"Like what? Using the Jet?" I shook my head. "I'm not going on that death-trap if I don't have to. Besides," I added when I saw him opening his mouth to argue, "I wouldn't miss a chance to annoy you for two hours."

"It's a three hour drive to Virginia." He said.

"That's what you think." I laughed and put his bag in the back seat of the car, as I ignored him checking for explosives underneath it. Who am I to judge?

"How are you doing?" He asked after he entered the car and I started driving.

"I'm peachy!" I smiled.

"No, you're not." Hotch said. "Dean died last night."

"No kidding." I commented, the smile gone from my face.

"How are you _really_ doing?" He asked and I sighed.

"Did I ever tell you about the first time I came to New York?" Hotch shook his head. "I was fifteen and John was on a hunt. It was one of those rare cases when he let me in, it was in Long Island, and we managed to get him to visit New York. He hated the city."

"Why?" Hotch asked.

"Too big, too loud, too dirty," I shrugged, "take your pick. Oh, and he hated the Yankees. Big time. But we got him to go so we go. See the sights, ride the subway, eat too much pizza. We got back to our motel and Sam and him just fell asleep. So Dean and I looked at each other and knew we were thinking the same thing. We're going to CBGB."

"The club?" Hotch asked, amazed

"You bet it." I smiled.

"Weren't you a bit underage?"

"Oh, way underage." I laughed. "So, we get there, sneak in, and it's just crazy. People are doing… everything. We were mind-blown. Then this girl, she walks up to Dean and invites him to join at her table. He says, 'only if my sister comes, too.' The girl was way nicer once she figured we were not together. Anyway, we got drunk, bad drunk. The room starts to spin and I see Dean isn't feeling much better than me. I look around and I see someone standing in the doorway, looking right at me. And he said, 'Dean and Diana Winchester'."

"Who was it?" Hotch asked.

"Who do you think it was?" I replied. "John. Now, I swear to God the bar fell quiet. You could hear a pin dropping. And Dean and I, we were petrified. Then this man, scariest dude I've ever seen and I've seen a lot of dudes, he stands up and says, 'sorry, sir.' That's it." My eyes were burning with tears. "'Sorry, sir.' Man, was I in trouble that night."

"What happened?"

"Well, Dean and I just kept whining about how much he embarrassed us." I said. "Dean told him he hated him, first time I heard him say that. And he turned to us and said, 'You don't like me? That's fine. It's not my job to be liked." Tears filed my eyes. "It's my job to raise you right.' It was the best and worst experience of my life. And Dean and John were there with me."

"And now they're gone." Hotch said.

"They're gone." I repeated. "And Dean will never know how sorry I was for leaving. He died, and he died hating me."

"He didn't hate you." Hotch said.

"You didn't hear him." I replied. "I left him a message, after the Cornell case. I heard him listening to it, in my dream. He said he didn't care."

"He was hurt." Hotch insisted. "He wasn't thinking rationally. You're still family."

"Family doesn't end with blood." I quoted. "How many times did you hear me say that? It works both ways."

"What?"

"Blood isn't enough." I said. "You gotta earn this. I made my choice when I left, and I made it again last night. I'm not a Winchester."

Before he could say anything, I opened the radio on a station I knew was playing my kind of music. I turned the volume up, letting the words of an unfamiliar song by a band named "Papa Roach".

"I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut.  
>My weakness is that I care too much.<br>And my scars remind me that the past is real.  
>I tear my heart open just to feel."<p>

Hotch reached out to change the station, but I grabbed his hand before he could, not taking my eyes off the road for a second.

"With all the respect, sir, and you know there's plenty," a hint of a sad smile crossed my face, "driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his cake-hole."

* * *

><p><strong><span>AN: And so season 3 is over, for both shows. Next up is the four months Dean is in Hell, anybody care to guess what's going to happen?**

**It was really fun for me, writing this episode (Partly because it gave me an excuse to stop learning for my tests) and I hope you liked reading it as much as I loved writing it. I also watched the latest episode of Supernatural just before I wrote it, so I had to put Dean's story about his night in New-York.**

**For reference, the songs in this chapter are "Oh, Death" by Jen Titus and "Scars" by Papa Roach. I will say it again, _I do not own them_! I just liked it, and they sorta jumped to my head when I wrote this chapter so I added them.**

**Please Read & Review, and have a Merry Christmas!**


	5. Hell

**A/N:**** Okay, so I wanted to write this chapter since I have started this story. I wanted to write it when the idea just crept into my mind, and it involved no FBI - Criminal Minds or other. And now I'm posting it.**

**PLEASE REVIEW you have _no_ idea how much I want to know what you think!**

**Warning: Dark chapter ahead.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.**

* * *

><p><strong>"All hope abandon, ye who enter here."<br>Dante Alighieri, ****_The Divine Comedy_**

"Um… hi." I said, feeling weird speaking in front of all these people, looking straight at me. "I… don't really know what I should say here." I glanced worryingly at Spencer, and he smiled encouragingly at me. "I think I'll start with the basics. My name is Diana Chess, formerly Winchester."

"Hello, Diana." A chorus of voices replied and, as oddly as it may sound, I felt slightly better.

"I'm a Supervisory Special Agent at the Behavioral Analysis Unit as of the past three years, and 28 years old." I continued with the basic information. "My story starts… I don't even know when. Some might say it started ten years ago, when I left my family. Others will claim it started when I was four and my mother died. I think it started a couple of months ago, when Dean, my twin brother, died.

"You all heard of the Winchester brothers." I said. "Serial killers, kidnappers, what not. I haven't spoken to them since I left home. Partially because _I_ didn't want to, partly because _they_ didn't want me to and partially because I was afraid. I haven't spoken to them in over a decade. But it still hurt like…" I couldn't bring myself to say the word. "It hurt when Dean died.

"And when he died, I started having nightmares. The 'keep you up all night, get worse as the days go by' kind of nightmares. And they were nasty."

.

The first night was the hardest.

By the time I left Hotch in his apartment and reached mine, it was the late hours of the afternoon and, seeing as I didn't get much sleep the previous night, I was exhausted. I had an aching heart and a worried mind and for the first time, I let myself think about it.

Dean was in Hell. Sam was all alone. A small voice in the back of my head told me I should look for him – we were the only family we've got left – but the shame and grief pushed it away. I have made too many mistakes to ever seek forgiveness, and I'm also probably the second to last person he wants to see right now, second only to Lilith.

I considered calling Bobby but knew he was probably getting stone drunk by now, trying to keep the grief away. Grief he hadn't felt since he lost his wife, all those years ago.

And above all else, was the fear I kept pushing to the back of my mind ever since Dean made that God-forsaken deal last year, fear that now rose above anything else as I prepared to go to sleep.

_When I sleep, I live Dean's life. What will I see now that Dean is in Hell?_

I would probably just stop dreaming, I told myself. There's no way you would keep seeing through Dean's eyes when he's in Hell, right? Right?

Nevertheless, I read a book before going to sleep. Prepared dinner. Watched TV. It was only when I physically couldn't keep my eyes open that I crawled into bed, pulled up the covers and closed my eyes.

.

_Pain. Pain was everywhere. Erasing my existence, deleting all thought from my mind other than the excruciating pain that seemed to fill my being. I saw nothing but red, felt like my blood was boiling._

_From what seemed to be a distance, I could hear somebody repeatedly yelling, "Sammy!" Only when I heard the same voice crying out, "Diana!", I realized the voice was Dean's._

_Somebody put a knife to my skin and made a long, clean cut. It didn't hurt specifically, as all I seemed to be was pain, but it burned like acid, and added the smell of burning flesh to the sensory overload I was experiencing. I was burned and whipped, cut into so many pieces I surely should have died. But the awful reminder always came. Dean is already dead._

_I tried to scream out in pain, but couldn't. I did not have the privilege of screaming. I was a guest. A visitor in Dean's mind. I couldn't control the body I was in, only Dean could, and he decided to use that control to call out our names._

_"Sammy!" A cry that sounded so agonized that I shrank in sympathy. "Diana!"_

_It lasted for hours._

_After a while, a Demon arrived and looked at Dean._

_"Have you rethought my offer, Dean?" He asked smoothly._

_"The answer is no." Dean said through gritted teeth._

_"Are you sure?" The Demon asked. "It's been a couple of months already. Wouldn't you rather the pain to go away?"_

_A couple of months? No, that can't be. Dean… Dean's only been dead for a day. Wasn't he?_

_Then again, I had spent nearly a day in here already. What is going on at home? Had I died, as well, and been sent to Hell? Is this the rest of eternity for me? I was brought back from my thoughts by Dean's hoarse voice speaking._

_"It can be years, decades." He said coldly. "I will never say yes, Alastair."_

_"Pity." Alastair said. "And here I thought I saw so much potential in you."_

.

I woke up in my bed, shivering and crying. Everything seemed blurred and I was hyperventilating. It took me a minute or so to calm myself, but when I did, I glanced at the clock.

I slept for less than five minutes.

I stood up and walked to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water and slowly drank it, taking deep breaths between sips.

It's my mind. My mind is playing tricks on me. And I'm letting it. It's not real. None of it is real, it couldn't be real. I've only slept for five minutes.

_Then again_, a small voice in the back of my head said, _the Demon, Alistair, he said Dean's been down there for months. What if time passes by differently in Hell?_

It's not real. It can't be.

I walked back to my bed and crawled under the covers, the single sentence running like a mantra in my head; It's just your mind, playing tricks on you. It's just your mind, playing tricks on you. It's _just_ your mind, playing tricks on you.

* * *

><p>"If in modern days, families still had mottos, I know what my family's would be." I said, a smile creeping to the corner of my lips. "No chick-flick moments. No showing emotion, no showing weakness.<p>

"I was raised on the road by an ex-Marine father who didn't have time for all the 'feelings crap', as he would call it. He tossed me at my uncle's house when I was 12, only coming back when my brothers insisted or when I got into trouble. So I learned very quickly to hide my feelings." I sighed. "I'm not good on the whole trusting people end. And, being the fool that I am, I tried to hide what I was going through from my co-workers. As it turns, it doesn't work so well when you're working with profilers."

.

"Chessi," Morgan grabbed my hand as we get off the plane after a hard case. Hotch still wasn't cleared back and it was affecting all of our moods. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" I shrugged.

"Because your brother died three weeks ago and you didn't as much as take days off." He replied.

"I'm fine." I lied smoothly.

"Are you?" He asked. "Because you were completely off during this case."

"I'm fine." I repeated, annoyed.

"You know if you ever need to talk –"

"I know." I cut him off. "But I don't. I'm fine." I yanked my hand out of his grasp. "Just leave me alone."

.

I was at Reid's house, making some popcorn and getting ready to watch the new "Doctor Who" season when I felt somebody move behind me. My senses, already sharp due to the constant stress that resulted from my lack of sleep, nearly jumped in but I realized who it was just in time so that I didn't do anything I'd regret later.

"Hi." She said. "I didn't really have the chance to talk to you since Dean…" She paused when she saw the way I flinched at his name. "Are you alright?"

"I'm peachy." I replied, sarcasm escaping into my tone.

"You don't seem that way." She insisted.

I shrugged. "Why does everybody think there's something going on?"

"Maybe because there's something going on?"

.

"Days passed, and the nightmares didn't get any better." I told the crowd that was watching me. "If anything, it was getting worse." _The Demons tortured Dean in despicable ways, trying to make him break._ I remembered, but clearly couldn't say that out loud. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat, I could barely think clearly.

"I started drinking myself to sleep, wishing for a dreamless night but time after time, it didn't work. So eventually, I drifted to the one escape route I never thought I'd use.

"On a case I worked on about two years ago, I was injected with Dilaudid. I knew that when I was under the influence of the drug, I didn't dream. Instead, I relived my worst memories, but at least my body was able to rest." Memories from years of hunting, profiling, school bullies and family quarrels returned to me during the couple of weeks in which I was using. I woke up shivering, crying, and still thankful, for it was still better than Hell.

"My addiction had gotten very severe, very quickly and I would have probably lost all I've worked so hard to build if it wasn't for Spencer. He's my best friend, and he was using Dilaudid a couple of years ago, so he noticed the symptoms.

"He saw the way I was having difficulties to concentrate, the slight trembling of my hands by the end of a long day, the sneaks to the bathroom when I needed another dose. And when he saw all that, he did the last thing I thought he would do. He told one of our co-workers, Dave, who also happens to be an old friend of my parents and my Godfather.

"Dave called a couple of days off for the two of us, and drove me to my uncle's house."

Rossi's car parked outside of Bobby's house just as the latter was coming out to see who was coming. My hand was handcuffed to the door after I used one of the stops we made on the road to get high, and I was pissed off, as well as starting to show on rehab symptoms.

"Do you still have you panic room?" Rossi asked as he walked out of the car.

"Yeah." Bobby said, frowning. "Why?"

"Help me put her in there and I'll explain it all."

I blinked with shock. "What?" I sneered. "No! You're not putting me there!"

"You bet we are." Rossi replied, opening the door.

I fought with teeth and nails, showing no mercy and it took them half an hour and their combined strength to lock me in the room, but they did. I screamed and yelled, called Bobby a hypocrite and Rossi a know-it-all, cursed in every language I know and eventually curled up on the floor and cried.

I was in that room for 36 hours, and I didn't rest a single moment of it.

When the drug was finally out of my system and they let me out, I was no longer mad at them, but hungrier than I had been in weeks and utterly exhausted. I couldn't bare looking at either of them and ate the food Bobby offered me silently, until Rossi offered I go get some rest. I lied about not being tired, but ten minutes later I was asleep on the couch.

.

_Something is wrong. Something is definitely wrong. By now, Dean has been little over three decades in Hell, and from the first moment I fall asleep, I know something is wrong._

_The pain isn't as intense as I remembered it to be the last time I was sober, around two months ago for me, two decades ago for Dean. Somehow, I don't think it's because of the Demons' kindness of heart._

_Then, the scene I was a part of became clear._

_Dean, not on the rack anymore. Instead, there's another man on the rack, and Dean is the one torturing him. He lifted the knife in his hand and started carving into the man, not unlike how he was tortured not so long ago._

_We felt a presence behind us, and Dean turned to see Alistair standing there._

_"Very good, Dean." The Demon said. "I told you, you had it in you."_

_Dean shivered as Alistair walked away, but didn't stop what he was doing. I felt his disgust, his regret at what he's doing. But I also felt something else. As much as he tried to hide it, as much as he tried to push it down and pretend it's not true, Dean enjoyed what he did._

_I spent an entire month in there before waking up on the couch at Bobby's house, crying and screaming._

.

"No! No! Stop!"

I woke up with a start at the loud sound of a door bursting open. Apparently, Rossi heard my screaming, and thought I was being attacked. So he ran downstairs with a gun, only to find me screaming in my sleep.

After that, I told them everything.

I told them about the dreams I've been having since I was a teenager, about the Hell time-differences. I told them about the torture Dean was going through – physically and mentally – though I left out the part about him breaking down and torturing souls.

"You thought I had nightmares because I was using drugs, but it was the other way around." I said. "I started using because it was the only way to stop the nightmares."

"Why didn't you say anything?" They asked.

I glared at them. "With all the respect, I don't really know you," I told Rossi, "and you weren't really available during the past three months," I told Bobby. "And besides, I have sort-of-psychic dreams even _actual_ psychics can't explain. And I know that because I went to psychics, Missouri included." I added. "I was scared. I was petrified, I still am."

"We could've helped." Rossi said.

"Could you?" I questioned. "Because I highly doubt that."

* * *

><p>"Things are getting better now." I lied to the crowd that listened to my every word. Well, half-lied. "I'm still having the nightmares, and they're still hard on me, but now I have people to talk to about it.<p>

"My Uncle calls me every day and keeps me posted with what is going on. My Godfather keeps an eye on me and he's always there when I need a shoulder to cry on. And Spence gets the difficulties I'm having with the rehab, and the temptation to start using again, even if only for a moment's relief.

"It's still hard and getting harder every day, but I'm doing it. Slow but steady, every day at a time. Thank you for listening."

I walked back to my seat next to Spencer, and put my hand in his. He pressed it lightly to relax me, and I pressed back to signal I was fine.

"Thank you for sharing, Diana." Tom, the consulter, said and everybody repeated silently. "The meeting is over for today, let's finish up."

We all stood up and created a circle, holding each other's hands as we chanted.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,  
>The courage to change the things I can,<br>And the wisdom to know the difference."

The meeting broke off and Reid dropped me at home, reminding me that the next day should be Hotch's first day back on the team. I sat by the kitchen table, slowly drinking water and wishing it was beer. I knew I shouldn't even think of getting drunk, as it would only put me back on the track to go back on the Dilaudid. I drank off the last bit of water, before grabbing a knife from the kitchen drawer and going to the bathroom.

I placed the cold knife on my skin, but stopped before I made the cut.

"God, or anybody who's listening, really," I started, "I want you to know that I hope for your forgiveness. I think of the way Dean broke down there, and I don't know what to do anymore. He… he was the best person I ever knew, and you let him die and go to Hell. I know what I'm about to do is a sin, and it might get me thrown down there, too. But maybe there I would have a silver of a chance to be there for Dean and make him understand how sorry I am and how much I love him. I want to help him, but I don't want to cause anyone else anymore pain. That's the only reason I didn't do it before. But it's been four months, and despite what I said earlier, I'm not okay. I hope you understand that, and I am sorry."

I intended to start applying pressure when a voice interrupted.

"Do not harm yourself."

I looked up to see a man with brown hair and blue eyes, wearing a trench coat and looking right at me.

"Who are you?" I asked. "How did you get in here?"

"My name is Castiel." He said.

The name sounded vaguely familiar but I didn't remember where from. I knew I haven't seen the man before in my life, and when I looked closer, I thought I saw something more to him, something I couldn't explain.

"_What_ are you?" I asked.

Lightening flashed through the windows, showing the out mark of big, black wings on the wall behind him as he spoke.

"I am an Angel of the Lord."


	6. Picking Up the Pieces

**A/N:**** Sorry I didn't update yesterday! I was at the New Year's Eve party and sorta forgot about it...**

**Anyways, here's the next chapter, tell me how you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.**

* * *

><p><strong>"Once you hit rock bottom, that's where you perfectly stand;<br>That's your chance of restarting, but restarting the right way."  
>Justin Kanayurak<strong>

I looked at Castiel, trying to decide if it was some kind of a twisted joke, or if it was a Demon trying to harm me.

"Angels?" I asked. "Angels don't exist."

What may have been a smile on any other person, but looked more like irritation on Castiel's face had appeared. "I beg to differ." He said.

"If Angels exist – and that's a _big_ if – how come there're no indications that you ever existed?" I asked. "No evidence, no witnesses to have ever seen you, nothing."

"Have you ever opened a Bible?" Castiel asked. "What more proof do you need?"

"Well, where have you been ever since?" I asked cynically.

"In Heaven."

"_Heaven_." I repeated. "Of course."

"What proof do you want, then?" Castiel asked.

"I don't know!" I called out. "Surprise me."

For a moment, it seemed that Castiel does not intend to do anything, before he vanished. Suddenly, he was behind me, grabbing my hand. I blinked and found myself in my bedroom.

"What was that?" I asked suspiciously.

"You wanted proof." Castiel said.

I turned and walked out of the room, looking around me to make sure I really was in my house and not somewhere else. Everything seemed fine, so I turned to look back at Castiel.

"Alright." I said slowly. "So Angels exist. I've been praying for months for Dean to get out of Hell, why are you suddenly listening?"

"You intended to harm yourself." He said. "You already have, and I have finally managed to convince my superiors to allow my help."

"Your superiors?" I asked.

"Angels are the soldiers of God." Castiel replied. "I follow orders. My orders were to observe only, and not to interfere. Until now."

"What had changed?"

"You harmed yourself." He repeated. "The Child of Creation –"

"- must not be harmed." I completed. "I know. I've been told so before."

"By Raphael." Castiel said. "I know."

"Was it really Raphael?" I asked, amazed. "I thought it was just Tobias's Multiple Personality Disorder."

"It was." The Angel explained. "It was the combination of his struggle to accept Charles's death, and Raphael who was sent to make sure you will be alright."

"Make sure I was _alright_?" I asked. "I was kidnapped, tortured, _drugged_. They nearly killed my best friend!"

"But you were safe." Castiel insisted. "You remained unharmed."

"You…" I walked to him and pointed to his face accusingly. "You are _sick_ bastards, you know that?"

"If I were you, I would show some respect." Castiel warned.

"Why?" I asked, stepping away from him and closing my eyes. "What have you ever done for me?"

"I have stopped you from making a terrible mistake." He said.

"A mistake?" I asked. "A mistake was listening when you told me to stop."

"I have done more than you know."

"Like what?" I questioned. "I prayed, I _begged_ that you save Dean. And what have you guys done? _Nothing_."

"I would not have been so certain." Castiel said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"Sleep, and find out." Was his only reply.

I laughed a humorless laugh. "Thank you, but I think I'll pass."

"Sleep." He ordered again.

I started feeling tired but fought it. "No." I managed.

"Sleep."

My feet were unable to hold me and I fell forward, only for him to hold me and lift me in his arms. He put me on the bed and pulled up the covers on top of me.

"I am your Guardian Angel." He said as I started drifting off. "Remember that. If you ever need anything, I am only a prayer away."

* * *

><p><em>I wasn't not sure where I am, except for a couple of small details that came into my sight. A hotel room, numbered 207. A woman, opening the door and asking where is the pizza. Me, saying I think we've got the wrong room. But my voice sounded wrong, and I wasn't the one controlling my mouth. Then Sam showed up, and looked at me with surprise and fear.<em>

_"Hey ya, Sammy." I said_

_He looked at me with surprise for a moment, and then charged at me._

_"Who are you?" He screamed as Bobby jumped to hold him back._

_I looked at the older man, and said, "Like you didn't do this!"_

_"Do what?" Sam asked._

_"It's him." Bobby said. "It's him, Sam. I've been through this already. It's really him."_

_Sam stopped fighting, and looked at me with shock. "But…"_

_"I know." I said. "I look fantastic, eh?"_

_He stepped closer and pulled me into a tight embrace, which I return without thinking, but the woman quickly interrupted us._

_"So are you two, like…" She looked between us, confused. "Together?"_

_"What?" Sam was confused for a moment before he seemed to realize what she was saying. "No. No. He's my brother."_

_Brother? No, that can't be. But… what other explanation is there? When I dream, I see what Dean sees. So that must mean that since I'm no longer in Hell, this really is Dean._

_"Oh." The woman said. "Got it. I guess. Look, I should probably go."_

_"Yeah, yeah." Sam muttered. "That's probably a good idea. Sorry."_

_"So, call me." She added as he put a fake smile on._

_"Sure thing, Kathy."_

_"Christie." She corrected, annoyed._

_"Right." Sam said, embarrassed, and she walked out the door._

_"So, tell me," Dean started, "what'd it cost?"_

_"The girl?" Sam smiled. "I don't pay, Dean."_

_"That's not funny, Sam." Dean said. "To bring me back. What'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?"_

_"You think I made a deal?" Sam asked._

_"That's exactly what we think." Bobby commented._

_"Well, I didn't."_

_"Don't lie to me." Dean said._

_"I'm not lying." Sam insisted._

_"So, what now?" Dean continued, ignoring Sam. "I'm off the hook, and you're on, is that it? You're some demon's bitch boy?" I can almost feel the disappointment in him. "I didn't want to be saved like this."_

_"Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, all right?" Sam asked, annoyed. Dean stepped closer and held his shirt._

_"There's no other way that this could have gone down." He said but I disagreed. There is one. "Now tell the truth!"_

_"I tried everything." Sam said as he shook Dean off. "That's the truth. I tried opening the Devil's Gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right? You were rotting in hell for months – for _months_ – and I couldn't stop it. So, I'm sorry it wasn't me, all right? Dean," his voice shook, "I'm sorry."_

_"It's okay, Sammy." Dean said quietly, "You don't have to apologize. I believe you."_

_"Don't get me wrong," Bobby started, "I am gladdened that Sam's soul remains intact, but that _does_ raise a sticky question."_

_Dean and Bobby changed looks of sad understanding._

_"If he didn't pull me out," Dean said, "then what did?"_

* * *

><p>"Castiel?" I asked carefully. "Castiel, can you hear me? You… you said to pray if I wanted to talk to you so, that's me. Praying."<p>

"Diana."

I turned to see the Angel standing behind me, so close to me that I had to fight the urge to attack him. instead, I looked into his blue eyes.

"It was you, wasn't it?" I asked. "You pulled Dean out of Hell, right?"

"Yes." He replied.

For a moment, I did nothing but stand and look at him. Then, I pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you." I whispered in his ear, but he seemed to be fazed as to what he should do in return. "When somebody hugs you, you hug back." I offered, and he wrapped his hands around me clumsily. We stayed like that for about a minute until I pulled back, watching his relieved face.

"You don't have to thank me." He said. "I was just following orders."

"Orders you pushed your superiors towards." I commented and he nodded, turning his head slightly aside. The gesture made him look like a kid trying to figure something out.

"Was that why you called me?" He asked. "You wanted to thank me for saving your brother?"

"Yes, but I also wanted to apologize." I said, ashamed. "I said some things last night that I regret now, so I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"It is alright." Castiel said with the odd smile of his again. "You were not thinking rationally, because of the exhaustion and desperation."

I laughed bitterly. "You just don't know how to accept gratitude, do you?"

"I do not act for gratitude." He replied, confused as to why I would think differently.

I opened my mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"I think it would be best if you –" I heard a flutter of wings and turned to see him already gone. "- go." I completed, and opened the door.

Standing there with something in his hand was Spencer.

"Is there a case?" I asked. "Why hadn't you guys just called –?"

"I didn't connect the dots, you know." He interrupted, pushing me and walking into the room. "Not until Henriksen arrived."

"What?" I asked, dazed. "That was over a year ago."

"Not until he arrived here," he said. I don't think I've ever seen him so angry at me, not since he was using. "Until he arrived _here_."

He handed over what he was holding – I could see it was a book now – and I looked at it.

"_Supernatural_?" I read aloud.

"It's a nice series of books." Spencer said. "The woman at the store recommended, so I bought it, and it turned out to be very interesting. It's about two brothers, Sam and Dean, looking for their father, John."

I paled.

"Every now and then their sister is mentions, but never by name." He continued. "Most of the fans think she doesn't even exists."

"Spence…" I tried, but he cut me off again.

"They go into all sorts of trouble. 'Fighting the Supernatural in this world so the rest of us can sleep better at night.'" He quoted. "But sometimes, they get involved with messy things. So they attracted the attention of an FBI agent. He came while they were hunting a Shape-shifter at a bank. Told them he would come after the sister," he looked at me accusingly.

"Spence, you've got to understand –"

"What I want to understand is whether or not it's all real." Spencer said, before looking at me expectantly. "Well?"

My reply was barely more than a whisper. "Yes."

"And you were never going to tell us?" He questioned. "Would you have ever told us any of this? Or would your life have just remained a secret forever?"

"Would you believed me?" I retorted. "Had I told you would you believed me or would you just threw me in psych ward?"

"You never checked, have you?"

"How?" I asked, hurt by his words. "How can you tell people our world is filled with Demons? Vampires? Werewolves? If I told you that my mom was killed by a Demon when I was four and that John became a hunter trying to find and kill it, how do you think you would have taken it?"

"Try!" He called.

"I _have_ tried!" I called back. "I _tried_ to put this life behind me! I _tried_ to have a fresh start! I _tried_ to keep you safe! Safe from things that are way beyond your understanding."

"Does anybody else know?" I nodded. "Who?"

"Garcia, Hotch and Strauss met a Demon once, while he was after me," I said, "and Rossi came from a family of hunters. That's how he knew my mom, she was also a hunter."

"Garcia and Hotch met a Demon?" Reid asked, as a sudden realization crossed his face. "Have we ever tried profiling one?"

"Once or twice." I said. "Mostly, the Demons stay off our radar, but we had a couple of cases with Vamps, and one with a werewolf."

"What did you do on those cases?" Reid asked.

"Waited until we called a cold case and told Bobby to send a hunter." I replied. "Lately, Rossi simply calls somebody he knows."

"Have we ever _closed_ a case with a supernatural creature? _Don't _lie to me." He added, seeing my hesitation.

"There was one case I _think_ might've involved the supernatural." I said carefully. "But I'm not sure if I'm right."

"Which case?" He asked.

I sighed. "It's not for sure, Spencer." I said. "I might be wrong. I still don't believe it myself."

"Who was it?"

"Please, trust me on this one." I pleaded. "You really don't want to know."

"I really do." He insisted. "_Who was it?_"

I looked away in shame, not wanting to see the look on his face. "Tobias Hankle."

For a couple of moments, there was silence before Reid spoke again. "How long have you known?"

"Less than a day." I replied honestly.

"Was he possessed?" Reid asked.

"You can say he was…" I said. "Part of the time, at least. He really did have Multiple Personality Disorder. But Raphael was real."

"An _Angel_?" Reid asked.

"I know." I said bitterly. "Only found out about it last night. They… how far have you read?"

"Up until 'No Rest for the Wicked'." Reid replied. "The one that ends with Dean being…" He trailed off.

"Dragged to Hell." I completed.

"Is it true? Is he really in Hell?"

"Was." I said.

Reid looked bewildered. "What?"

"He _was_ in Hell." I said. "Until yesterday."

"What had changed?" He asked, confused.

"I told you already." I said quietly. "I only found out about the Angels last night."

"Alright." Spencer said, rubbing his temples. "We're going to sit down and you will tell me everything. And I mean it, Chessi. _Everything_."

* * *

><p>I did tell Reid everything eventually. Starting the fire that killed my mother and up until the dreams I've been having. I told him about what his mother knew, and about the help she gave my father when he just started hunting. I even told him about the Child of Creation thing, something I've told no-one so far.<p>

It was nice, to have someone to talk to, for a change. I didn't know how much I needed it, how much I missed it, until now. It was something I last had with Ash when I was seventeen. I just wasn't the type of person to tell people the entire truth. I hid the parts I was ashamed of, or the parts I thought it was better if they didn't know.

Apparently, it was mutual.

"Hey, Peanut, how're you doing?"

"I'm fine, Bobby, how are you?"

"Me?" Bobby shrugged. "Same as usual."

"Really?" I questioned. "No unexpected visitors? Any old friends dropping by to visit?"

"So you know." He sighed.

"Yeah," I replied. "I know. Now would you please explain me why haven't _you_ told me? Or, better yet, why when Dean asked you to call me, you _refused_?"

"How do you know that?" He asked.

"What part of 'When I sleep I live Dean's life' didn't you get?" I retorted.

"Listen, Peanut, you gotta understand I did what I thought was best for you."

"What _you_ thought!" I repeated. "Because I don't get to have my own opinion. I don't get to be asked what _I_ want you to do when it comes to my life. _Mine_."

"You have enough crap of your own going on." He said, not sounding the slightest as if he was sorry. "You don't need their crap on top of that."

"Their crap is also my crap, Bobby." I said. "When Azazel was after them, he was after me, too. When Dean sold his soul, I was in Hell, too. Hell, half of my crap is _because _of their crap."

"Which is exactly why you should stay away." Bobby said. "This is how things end up for you when you're away from them. What do you think would happen if you start being in touch again?"

"I had the right to decide for myself." I insisted.

"Not this time." Bobby replied. "Not when you would have made the wrong choice."

I sighed. "God, I hate you sometimes."

"You mean when I'm right?"

"Shut up." I laughed. "So what's the thing with the witnesses?"

"You know, eh?" There was silence on the line for a minute or so as he waited for me to comment and I refused to let him push the subject away. "Nothing that you should be worried about. The witnesses were people who died from a supernatural cause and we couldn't save. You didn't hunt for years."

_There were still people I couldn't save._ I thought. _A very specific, Multiple Personality Disordered people._

"Be careful, would you?" I asked.

"You too." He said. "And if anything supernatural walks within ten feet of you, you give me a call, alright?"

I thought back at Castiel and at how not only was he less than ten feet from me, I _hugged_ him. "Sure I will." I lied smoothly. What Bobby doesn't know won't hurt him, right?

Right?

I hung up the phone and walked to the kitchen, took the bag of salt from under the sink and poured it on the windows and doors, thinking I was better safe than dead. Just as I walked to the last windowsill, I saw a man standing in the middle of the living room and looking at me.

"I knew this was going to happen," I said, "and I want you to know I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Tobias asked. "Sorry for what? For letting me die? For not saving me? For letting an Angel _possess_ me?"

"I didn't know –" I started but Tobias cut me off.

"You should've known!" He called. "You should've known better! You should've found a way to save me, like I tried to save you!"

"You were beyond saving, Tobias." I said calmly. "I couldn't stop Charles."

"You could've tried harder." He replied, walking towards me. "But it doesn't matters now." A wicked smile crossed his lips. "Someone wants to talk to you."

"No." I begged. "Please, no. Fight him, Tobias, I know you can."

"But he doesn't want to." Came Charles's harsh voice. Even after close to two years, I could still tell the difference between Tobias's personalities. "He knows you deserve it, Sinner. And there's no Raphael to save you now."

"Castiel!" I called, suddenly scared. "Castiel, please! Somebody! Anybody!"

"Nobody can help you now." Charles smiled. "There's only you and me here, child."

"I wouldn't count on it." Said a voice. The wrong voice, not Castiel's. A hand passed through Charles' form and it burned in a blue light, leaving me shivering against the wall.

I looked at my savior. "You're the Trickster." I said, and then squinted my eyes a bit. "No, you're not."

The man looked like the Trickster in my dreams of Dean but different. He had a vibe I couldn't explain and something about him indicated that he was more than just a Demigod. He reminded me of Castiel somehow.

"You're right," the man said, "both your statements are, actually. When your brothers met me, they knew me as the Trickster. But that's not who I am."

"You're an Angel." I said and frowned. _How did I know that? _

"And you're on a winning streak." He retorted mockingly. "Gabriel, at your service."

"Gabriel." I repeated. "The Archangel? One of the Angels sent to protect the four edges of the earth? The Angel of Mondays?"

"Touchy subject over there." He laughed. "I don't like Mondays."

"I bet you don't." I mumbled. "How did I know you're an Angel?"

"My best guess would have to be you saw my Halo." He said. "Not many humans can. But, then again, I shouldn't have expected less from the Child of Creation."

"Oh." I said bitterly. "That. Is that why you saved me?"

"Dear God, no." He replied.

I ignored the odd feeling I had that the Angel just committed blasphemy. "Then why?"

"Maybe I thought you reminded me of myself." He sighed. "Ran from home, cut off your brothers because you couldn't stand them fighting all the time, couldn't bare the absence of your father. Or, maybe," he smiled, "maybe I just liked the idea of a Winchester owing me."

"I'm not a Winchester." I said coldly.

"I've heard." Gabriel smiled. "You're a Chess now."

"Damn straight I am."

"Well then, Chess," Gabriel continued, the annoying smile still on his face. "I guess I'll just see you around."

"Wait!" I called and he stopped. "I'm the Child of Creation. Everybody keep saying that. Lilith, Raphael, Castiel and now you."

"Yes." Gabriel clarified.

"What does it means?" I sighed. "Why is it important?"

"It means you are powerful." He replied. "More powerful than you imagine and more powerful than either the Angels or the Demons want you to realize."

And with no further explanation, he vanished.


	7. Normal as it Can Get

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal minds.**

* * *

><p><strong>"Normal is how you perceive normal,<br>Not what others tell you is normal."  
>Sean Thomas<strong>

I was rebuilding myself step by step, one day at a time. I worked on cases, questioned witnesses and for the most part, managed to keep my mind off Dean and Sam. But only for the most part.

The smallest of things reminded me of them: interviewing a victim's siblings, watching the local officers load their guns, unpacking my bag at the hotels.

On one case, Reid and Prentiss were taken hostage, and I was slowly losing my mind until they got out, safe and sound. It was unnerving and before I had the chance to relax, we were working a case of couples being murders after they signed in at roadside motels.

I was teamed with Rossi for questioning at the motels. Our profile indicated it was a man who worked at one of those motes and hated women. As it turns out, that was nearly all of them.

"You get a lot of people staying over?" Rossi asked at one motel as I was trying to keep my mind away from all the bikes in the parking lot and focus on the case.

"Some hard-Core riders." The man replied. "Guys come up here for a night or two."

"Ever get any couples?" Rossi asked.

"You know any girls who'd stay here?" The worker asked just as I noticed a black motor behind him.

"Is that an FL POLICE '75 Harley?" I asked, running to it and turning to the man who stood next to it. "Where the Hell did you find one?"

"Yeah." I heard Rossi say from somewhere behind me, the smile clear in his voice. "I think I know just this one." He nodded at my direction. "The rest of them must think it's a bit messy."

"Yeah." The worker replied, not sending another look at me. "They might get dirty."

"Dude, you've _got_ to give me some tips on how to keep it like that." I told the biker. "I barely have time to work on my Ducati."

"Chessi." I heard Rossi call and turned to him.

"Yeah. Sorry." I turned to the worker who looked at me weirdly. "So the rentals keep you busy." I said.

"Tourists, mainly." He replied. "Most locals have their own."

"I imagine it's pretty easy to get yourself turned around out there." Rossi said.

"I guess." The man said half-heartedly. "But it's faster getting around on trails than on the roads."

"So, you run this place alone?" I asked.

"More work, more money."

"Do you mind if I keep this?" Rossi asked, showing him the brusher in his hand.

"Help yourself." The man said.

"Thanks for your time." I said and handed my hand for him to shake. I didn't miss the look of hesitation he had on his face before complying, probably in order to not seem disrespectful.

"How are you?" Rossi asked when we entered the car.

"I'm better." I replied, pulling out of parking and driving away. "You'll never believe what happened. An Angel pulled Dean out of Hell."

Dave raised his brow. "Are you kidding me?"

"No." I replied. "Ask Bobby. It really happened."

"Angels?"

"Angels." I smiled. "Or, specifically, an Angel named Castiel."

"Don't get anything into that head of yours." He warned.

"Like what?" I asked before I realized what he was talking about. "Dave!" I called. "What the hell? He's an _Angel_!"

"I know the look you had when you said his name." Rossi said. "Same look I had with my first two wives."

"Dave. _Angel_." I repeated. "That means that even if I wanted to, he's an _Angel_."

"So you want to." Rossi chuckled to himself. "Interesting. Anyway," he added in response to the look on my face, "I was talking about the case."

"I'm fine." I said.

"Really?" He asked. "This is our first case that involved rape since Lawrence."

"I'm dealing with it." I insisted.

"Diana," Rossi sighed, "please don't keep everything inside again."

"What do you want to hear?" I asked. "That it's killing me how this man treats women? That I keep thinking how close I was to ending up just like them, dead and humiliated?"

"But you're here." Rossi said. "You're safe."

"Yeah?" I questioned. "And what about Abby Corbin? Will she be safe, too? You can't promise that, can you?"

* * *

><p>Eventually, Abby Corbin was alright, or, at least, as alright as it can get after you've been kidnapped, raped, and nearly killed. Reid, Rossi and I watched as she and her husband were loaded onto ambulances, and leaned against one of the SUVs as Prentiss approached us.<p>

"Well, roadside motels definitely go on my list." She said. "Of things I'll never do again." She added, seeing Reid's confused face.

"You have a list?" He asked.

"You don't?" Rossi replied.

"But there's something about motels." I said. "I mean, sure, some are trashy and completely disgusting -"

"And are run by serial killers?" Prentiss asked.

"But it's also nice, in some ways." I completed, ignoring her. "It's cheap and it gives the feeling of a road trip."

"Yeah, I think I'll stick to the five stars hotels, thank you very much." Reid said.

"I'm with you." Rossi said. "I've had my fair share of motels and as nice as it can be, the room service isn't half good."

I pouted as everybody laughed. "Alright." I said. "Make fun of me. I don't care."

"Do you want me to ask Strauss to put you in a motel on our next case?" He asked.

"If you do, I'll show you that you don't need to run a motel to be a killer." I threatened. "I like my showers without mold if I can help it."

"It's going to take a while to get this mess cleaned up." Morgan said.

"Well, it's going to take a hell of a lot longer for that couple to recover." I said.

"They'll be fine." Reid said, putting a hand on my arm.

"At least they're alive." Morgan added.

"Barely." Prentiss said coldly. "If we'd gotten there five minutes later…"

"But we didn't." Morgan said. "Chessi, are you coming with me in the car?"

"I think I'll go alone, if you don't mind." I sighed. "I need a moment to myself."

They nodded as I entered the black car and started driving away.

_Why am I doing this to myself?_ I wondered. _For what do I need all of this pain for, all the killing, the psychopaths? Every time I think I saw all there is to see, another case comes by to prove me wrong. Will it ever end? Or will all this pain just stay there –_

"I never understood why you were so interested in Motorcycles." A voice said next to me, and I nearly drove the car into a tree.

"Geez, Cas!" I called. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I've been watching you since you were a teenager." He said. "And you were always interested in them. I never understood why."

"A Motor is a work of art." I said. "To put all those small pieces together and build a two-wheeled machine that can drive long distances is hard. And after it's built, to maintain it is an art in itself."

"I do not understand." Castiel said.

"Never mind." I sighed. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure you are alright." He replied. "To my understanding, it was a hard case and it affected you deeply."

"Every case is hard." I said, avoiding his question.

"Was this harder than usual?" He asked.

"Yes." I said. He didn't comment, only looked at me so I continued. "This woman was raped and nearly killed. And I know how she felt, because I was in her place before. Last year, during a case in Lawrence, I was the victim. I was the one who was tortured and I guess this case… it brought back some difficult memories."

"Are you better now?" Castiel asked, real worry in his voice.

_Wow._ I thought to myself. _It can feel!_

"Yeah, I'm better." I said.

"I do feel." He said. He sounded slightly hurt, as if I insulted him, and I realized…

"Cas," I said casually, "can you read my mind?"

"I do not understand that expression." He said.

"Can you… hear my thought or something?"

"I am capable of hearing your thoughts." He confirmed. "It is a part of the connection I have as your Guardian Angel."

"Oh, Cas." I sighed. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I… I understand you can feel, even if it's different from the way I feel. I didn't want to –"

"It is alright." He cut me off, but his voice was calm and nice. "Your apology is accepted."

"Can you…" I hesitated. "Can you always hear my thoughts?"

"I only hear it clearly when you are nearby." He replied. "If you are far away, I can only feel strong emotions, unless you address them directly to me."

"Okay," I said slowly, "that's not weird at all."

"I'm glad you seem to think so." Castiel commented before he disappeared.

"Sarcasm." I mumbled. "Trust me to try to use sarcasm when talking to an Angel. Will I never learn?"

* * *

><p>"What are you guys doing here?" Reid asked as he walked into his hotel room in Vegas.<p>

We were just after a long case involving a child abduction and he said he's going to stay for a couple more days to visit his mom. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between Rossi, Morgan and me that we would be staying as well. In Reid's room.

"Hey," Morgan called as he saw the young doctor entering his room, "what's it look like we're doing?"

"Uh, breaking into my room and watching 'Days of Our Lives." Spencer replied.

"'Young and the Restless.'" Rossi corrected.

"I wanted to watch 'Days of Our Lives', but they wouldn't let me." I commented.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a plane back to DC?" He asked.

"You're supposed to be hanging out with your mom." Rossi said.

"And you're not." Morgan added.

"What's in the box?" I asked, jumping out of my seat and nearing him. "Riley Jenkins?"

"No, it's not…" Spencer started muttering. "That's actually not why I'm here."

"Reid?" Morgan asked. "Come on, man. Who do you think you're talking to?"

"You always stutter when you lie." I commented, opening the box and taking out files. "You should work on it."

"Don't touch the –"

"I know what this has been doing to you." Morgan said.

"Let us help." Rossi said. "Maybe together we can find out who killed him."

"I'm helping whether you want me or not." I called, ignoring the glare Dave sent in my direction.

"I think I might already know." Spencer said and I took my head out of the evidence box.

"So," I said, "tell us about the suspect."

"Truth is I don't know anything about him." Spencer said silently. "He's my father."

"Oh, Spence." I said, putting the files back in the box and walking to him, taking his hand in mine. "We'll help, however we can. You know that right?"

He nodded and took the box, putting the files neatly on the bed.

"Before we go down this road, you need to be sure." Rossi said.

"He's right." Morgan said. "Some rocks don't need looking under."

"But whatever you choose, we're here for you." I finished, and we all looked at him expectantly.

"My mind is sending me signals, I can't ignore them anymore." Spencer said.

"Mixed signals." Rossi commented. "It's what the subconscious is all about, you know that."

"Reid, your dad left you." Morgan said. "If you take it to the Freudian extreme, you can say he killed your childhood."

"Which could explain a dream in which you see him as a murderer." Rossi carried on.

"What do you think, Chessi?" Reid asked and I sighed.

"You've come this far." I said. "I say we keep digging. Investigate further but treat it like any normal case. Whether the signs lead us to your father or not, we follow them. Closer on any way we take."

"I've come this far." Reid repeated. "I'm not going back."

"We better start, then." Rossi said. "Tell us all there is to know about the case."

* * *

><p>For the next hour or so, Spencer told us everything he knew about the case and we built a basic profile.<p>

I came with him to the hospital when he asked Deanna about his father, but I was there more for the mental support than my profiling abilities, but I avoided speaking to the kid's father, and sent Morgan with him instead. When we found out that all those years, Spencer's father was working in the same company, right outside of town, there was no question on the matter. It was clear that the three of us were coming.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" The secretary asked as we walked through the door. "Ma'am?"

"Yeah," Spencer said carefully, but then he seemed as if he lost his words.

I walked next to him and held his hand, giving him a little squeeze like he always did to relax me when Rossi told the secretary we'd like to speak with William Reid.

"Is he expecting you?" She asked.

"I don't think so." I said, showing her my badge.

"He's in a meeting right now." She said. "Why don't you have a seat and I'll tell him you're here?"

We nodded and I sat down as Spencer went to the bathroom and Derek was talking with Dave. Seventeen years. For seventeen years he was right here and never thought to drop by even once, to tell Spencer he was okay. I ignored the small voice in the back of my head that said I was doing the exact same thing and decided that though I never met him, I already don't like William Reid.

Thinking of the devil, the man just came out of his office and approached us. "You're with the FBI?" He asked.

"Yes, sir." Rossi replied. "Mr. Reid, I'm agent Rossi, those are agents Morgan and Chess.

"This wouldn't be about the city council investigation, would it?" Spencer's father asked with a smile.

"No," I replied coldly, "this is more of a personal matter."

"It's concerning your son." Morgan said.

"My son?" William repeated. "Did something happen?"

"That's what we're trying to find out." Spencer said, walking back into the room. He looked at the older Reid up and down for a couple of moments before speaking. "Hello, dad."

We questioned Spencer's dad for a bit, but when he closed himself to us and demanded a warrant, we backed off and returned to the hotel where Reid found a package at his room. A file with information about a man Spencer thought he might've known, along with the message, "You're looking at the wrong guy."

Garcia still did a check-up on William's computer and though she didn't find anything that might connect him to the murder, she did find a lot of files on one certain person: Spencer.

"He's keeping tabs on you." Rossi said. "That must be saying something."

"Yeah, he Googled me." Reid said coldly. "That makes up for everything. I'm going to get some air."

"I'll go after him." I said immediately and ran outside. "Spencer!" I called. "Spence, wait up!"

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Making sure you're good." I said. "I may not have had many friends in my life but I know that friends are there for one another. You were there when I needed you, and now I'm here for you."

"Thank you." He said quietly. "It means a lot to me."

"Don't mention it." I said. "And besides, if I ever had any doubt now I know for sure that you're in the crappy dads club."

"There's a club?" He asked with a smile.

"Of course there is!" I said. "We meet every Thursday night for pizza and poker."

"It's Friday." Spencer said. "You missed last night's meeting."

"Good thing we're in Vegas, then." I said, pulling him towards the Poker Machines. "You stay here, I'll get us some pizza."

* * *

><p>"She said <em>what<em>?" I asked after Spencer told us of the conversation he had with his mother.

"It could have been you." Reid repeated. "She said it could have been me. It makes perfect sense – she knew about what my dad was doing!"

"She's not stable, Spence." I sighed. "You can't put stock in what she says, I don't need to tell you that."

"And I don't need to tell you this is textbook." Reid replied. "Father reroutes compulsion to molest away from his own son to a surrogate."

"The woman thought Riley Jenkins was an imaginary friend until you told her otherwise." I said.

"The mind's way of suppressing memories she doesn't want to face."

"You're losing objectivity here." I said. "You might've misunderstood her."

"I'm not trying to say I know what happened, Chessi." Reid said. "Or how my dad's involved. But my dad is involved."

"What about the other guy?" I asked. "The one whose picture and file was in your room."

"Misguiding." Spencer said. "Trying to take the focus away from himself."

"But you're still looking into it, right?" I asked. "Spence?"

"Yeah, of course I'm looking into it." He said. But it will turn out as a dead end."

It didn't. Gary Michaels was nowhere to be found. Garcia checked everything that was registered under the name and arrived at a dead end. Either the man deleted himself from existence, or someone else did.

Spencer, of course, didn't agree to listen about it.

"It's him." He said. "I know it."

"You're not thinking rationally." I said. "He's family, and your judgment is blurred. Trust me. I've been there before."

"Gary Michaels fits the profile." Morgan said. "He fled town after Riley's murder, he's a better suspect than your dad, Reid."

"He's a convenient one." Reid insisted.

"Judgment." I repeated. "Blurred."

"Someone slipped the file under my door, Chessi," Reid said, "what am I supposed to think?"

"Maybe they want to help." Rossi offered.

"Maybe they're trying to protect him."

"Forget it, I'm leaving." I said.

"Where are you going?" Rossi asked.

"I need coffee." I replied and walked out the door.

I didn't even make it to the street corner when Castiel appeared.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I went out for coffee." I replied and he squinted his eyes at me.

"I can tell that you are lying." He said.

"One beer never did any harm." I said.

"It would to you."

"Dammit, would you just leave it alone?" I asked. "One beer. One goddamn beer would not kill me."

"It would be worse if you relapsed." Castiel said seriously. "You have worked so hard to stay clean, Diana. Do not throw it away. What is going on?"

"You mean other than the fact that my best friend thinks his dad's a pedophile and won't listen to reason when we try to explain him he's wrong?" I asked bitterly.

"Yes." Cas replied. _Sarcasm_. "Other than that."

"Nothing." I sighed. "If I'm not getting my beer I'm going back to the station."

"Why?" He asked, confused.

"Because Spence will see reason soon." I replied. "And when he will, he'll need me. And I have every intention of being there for him."

* * *

><p>The case went on. Lou Jenkins was brought for questioning and Reid's mom remembered what happened. We set up a private room for them to talk in, but right before he entered, he held my hand.<p>

"Would you come in with me?" He asked.

"I will," I said, "but I will not say anything. This is between you," I marked at his parents who were in the room already, "and them."

We walked inside and sat down, and I held Spencer's hand as his mom told us what had happened.

"I'd seen him around at your ball games, at the park." She said. "You used to play chess there, do you remember? You played with him once."

"With Gary Michaels?" Spence clarified.

"I didn't know that was his name back then," Deanna said, "but it wasn't unusual for you to play with adults. And you'd win, too."

"Did he do something to me?" He asked, pressing my hand tighter.

"Oh, no." Deanna said. "God, no. It never got to that point. But when I saw the way he looked at you, I knew what he was. I could just tell."

"A mother knows." Spencer said.

"Yes."

"So, you told Riley's dad." Spencer pushed forward.

"Two nights later, Lou called the house." Deanna continued. "He was agitated. He said he needed me to meet him. I sat there." She said, the panic from the memory clear in her voice. "I couldn't move, it was like a dream. That paralysis in the face of something terrible."

"What happened after that?" Spencer asked.

"It's okay, Deanna." William calmed his wife. "Go on."

"At some point, I found myself walking towards the house." She said. "And the rest… It's all dark after that."

"You came home." William completed. "She couldn't talk at first. But eventually I came to understand what had happened. And I knew that nobody could ever know."

"So, you never told anyone?" Spencer asked.

"No, she could have been implicated." William replied. "And I had to protect her."

"You were burning _her_ bloody clothes." Spencer understood.

"But the knowing," William continued, "you can't burn that away. It changes everything."

"Is that why you left?" Reid asked. His grip of my hand was so tight it was painful, but I let him.

"I tried to keep us together, Spencer. I swear to you, but the weight of that knowledge, it was too much."

"You could have come back." Spencer said, tears in his voice. "Could have started over."

"I didn't know how to take care of you anymore." William admitted. "When I lost that confidence, there was no going back."

"What's done is done." Deanna said. "At least now you know the truth."

"I was wrong about everything, I'm sorry." Spencer said.

William stood from where he was and approached the couch Spencer and I were sitting on. I stood up and stepped aside, letting him sit by his son. "I am, too, Spencer."

"You take good care of him, alright?" Deanna asked me quietly. "I understand you're not together but I'm asking you. Keep my baby safe."

"I will keep him safe." I said. "I swear."

* * *

><p>As Reid and I walked into the hospital to visit JJ and her newborn baby, my mind was racing with thoughts. At the end, Reid's father really did care about him. He did what he could to keep his family safe. Even if it meant not keeping it whole.<p>

_Wasn't it just what John did?_ I wondered. _Just what I am doing right now?_ _I'm trying to keep my family – my BAU family – whole and safe. Safe from all that there is in this world._

"Is there room for two more in here?" Reid asked when we stood at the entrance of the room.

"Spence," JJ said, "Diana."

"Welcome back." Hotch said.

"Congratulations." Reid said.

"Thank you." Will, the baby's father, said.

"How is it that I just went through 15 hours of labor and you look worse than I do?" JJ asked. To be honest, she looked pretty good. She had a halo of happiness around her as she held her baby.

"Don't be ridiculous." Reid said.

"You look beautiful." I added honestly.

"Well, I could sure use some coffee." Will said. "Anyone else?"

Everybody nodded and left the room and I intended to follow them but Reid's hand grabbed mine and I stayed where I was. After everyone were out of the room, he let it go and we neared JJ's bed.

"You ok?" JJ asked.

"Yeah, yeah." Reid replied. "You?"

"Yeah, are you sure?" She asked. "Because there's something I wanted to ask you two, but it can wait."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Will and I were talking, and…" She looked nervous for a moment but then it changed back into the confident woman I know. "We want you to be henry's godparents."

Spencer and I stared at her with shock.

"I don't even know –" Spencer said.

"I don't know how –" I started.

"Here," JJ cut us off, handing the baby to Spencer's hands. "Do you want to hold him?"

"It's ok." I said, immediately turning into protection mode over both Reid and the baby.

"Here you go." JJ said. "Watch his head. There you go."

"Hello, Henry." Spencer said.

"If anything should happen to us," JJ said, "it's up to you two to make sure this boy gets into Yale."

"Yale." I repeated.

"Yale?" Spencer asked. "Do you want to go to Yale, Henry? That was your godfather's safety school. Don't worry, I can get you into Cal-Tech with one phone call."

I laughed at that and Spencer handed the baby over to me. I held him in my hands, amazed by how something can still be so pure and beautiful, so untouched in this cursed world I know all too much about.

Even between Demons and Angels, between the upcoming Apocalypse and whatever part my brother may be playing in bringing it or stopping it, there is still good. There are still things to fight for. And there is still hope.

And at that moment, for me, that hope was named Henry LaMontagne.


	8. Past, Present, Future

**"Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again.  
>Wisely improve the present, it is thine.<br>Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart."  
>Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<strong>

"Son of a bitch!" I called out, fighting the urge to kick my Motor. "Come on, Darlin', you can't do that to me right now."

"Is everything alright?"

I turned around at the voice, seeing Tom, the neighbor from upstairs, walking out of the building. He was a lovely middle-aged man I met once or twice after his wife invited me for tea in their apartment.

"My Motor won't start." I said, annoyed. "And I'm already late for work."

"I work at a repair shop." He supplied. "One of the new kids is good with bikes. I can take it and let him have a look."

I hesitated for a moment. Usually, when Darlin' broke down I repaired it myself, but with the job at the BAU, I couldn't tell when I would have the time.

"I'll come with you." I said. "Nobody's touching my Darlin' when I don't meet them first."

"You treat this motorcycle like a baby." Tom laughed as he helped me load it onto his pick-up truck.

"It _is_ my baby." I said. "I build it from scratch."

"Really?" He asked. "You never told me."

"I grew up at a salvage yard." I said. "For my sixteenth birthday, my uncle said I could have whatever ride I wanted – as long as I was the one fixing it. I wandered around for nearly a week when I saw the Scrambler. Took me nearly a month but I got it to work."

"At sixteen?" Tom asked with a low whistle. "Impressive."

"Never took it to a garage until today." I said when we parked outside.

"Wait here a moment and I'll bring someone to help you take your Darlin' off the truck." Tom said before he entered the garage and called, "Daniel!"

A man approached us and smiled at me, before reaching out and taking the motorcycle off, examining it.

"That's some good ride over here," he said with a smile, "How'd you get it?"

But I was too shocked to reply. "Johnny?" I whispered.

The smile drifted off his face. "Who are you?" He whispered angrily. "How do you know who I am?"

"Chessi, don't you have a job to get to?" Tom asked.

"Chessi?" Johnny – Daniel – questioned, as realization crossed his face. "What's going on, _Winchester_?"

"I'll explain everything later." I said. "I promise. I'll be out of town for a couple of days but I swear I'll tell you everything when I'll be back." I turned to leave before I paused and looked at him again. "Darlin' won't start." I said. "I think it's something in the ventilation, you can take my number from Tom if you need something." I added before I ran away and stopped a taxi.

I was already late so I texted Garcia, who in reply told me to go straight to the airport and that I'll get briefed on the jet. The driver tried to start a pleasant conversation but I didn't cooperate, mind too busy with thoughts.

What is Johnny doing this far away from Cambridge? What happened to the repair shop he was running there and _why_ did Tom call him Daniel?

I knew I wouldn't get answers to those questions so I pushed them away and paid the driver, running to the jet.

"You missed briefing." Hotch said. It sounded like something between an accusation, a statement and a question.

"Needed to take Darlin' to the garage." I said shortly. "What did I miss?"

"Someone's killing cops in Phoenix, Arizona." Rossi said. "We believe it's a serial killer."

Agent Todd – JJ's replacement - passed me the case-files we had so far and I read into it. It occupied me during the take-off, which was always the worst part, and just as we stabilized, the speaker started beeping.

"Go ahead, Garcia." Hotch said and we all pause to listen.

"Okay," she starts, "while you birds have been in the air, I got the 411* on the first shooting.  
>Apparently every Saturday night, phoenix PD sets up a DUI checkpoint."<p>

"Is that common knowledge?" Prentiss asked.

"Yup." Garcia replied. "Public awareness is part of the deterrent. So our unsub blows past said checkpoint at 90 mph, and is pursued by an officer Jason Kessinger. Kessinger pulls the car over, approaches the driver's side window, where he is shot in the throat. Oh, no." She sighed. "He was a single parent, two daughters."

"So, the unsub planned ahead," Rossi comments, "used the DUI stop to set his trap, and then lured the officer to his death."

"It could have been personal." Prentiss offered. "The Unsub might have had a problem with these particular officers."

"Or with law enforcement in general." Hotch said. "He's sending a message."

"Criminals, gang members, academy washouts, security rent a cops, teenagers, and that's just a start." Reid said. "I mean, the list of people who have a problem with police officers is a long one."

"The victims were shot in the neck," I said, looking at the pictures, "so the Unsub knew they'd be wearing body armor."

"And he used a DUI checkpoint." Reid added. "I mean, both incidents show an active understanding of police procedure."

"Which narrows it down to anybody who watches television." I commented.

"We need to cover Victimology." Hotch summed. "Garcia, find out everything you can about the officers killed. See what they had in common besides their uniforms."

"Will do," Garcia said, "but I should warn you, it will not be a piece of cake. Because I have been on the phone with these guys all morning, and pulling files from them has been like pulling molars."

"Is there a problem?" Hotch asked.

"You know, aside from the obvious grief for their fallen compadres, and their fear of being used as target practice, I get the _distinct_ impression from their _crabby_ behavior, they are none too pleased their boss is outsourcing this investigation to the FBI." She warned. "So be prepared to hit a blue wall of resistance."

The flight continued silently and when we landed, Hotch advised we'd go to the police station together and see what we do next from there. We drove and reached it soon enough, and saw by a middle-aged man standing in the middle of the station.

"Commander Marks," Hotch greeted. "I'm SSA Hotchner. This is agent Todd. Agents Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, Chess, and Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Thank you for inviting us." I said politely.

"And thank you all for coming." Marks replied. "Although I'd like to have a word if you don't mind."

"Of course." Hotch said. "Excuse me."

"Uh, Lieutenant Evans." Marks called and a good-looking man turned to us. "Lieutenant Evans will answer any questions the rest of you may have." Marks added and he and Hotch left.

"I'll call you later." Evans told the woman he was speaking with. "And you know you are always welcomed to see me and Sarah." The woman nodded and walked away and Evans turned to us. "Sorry, that was officer Kayser's wife." He explained and I recognized the name as one of the officers who was killed last night. "They'd only been married a couple of months. She seems to think that the FBI is here to save the day." He looked between all of us in a daring look before settling on me. "Is that what you're going to do, agents?"

"We're only here to help." I replied. "We don't want to take the case away from you."

"Of course you don't." He replied.

"Why don't you take us to the latest crime scene?" Morgan offered and Evans nodded.

"I'll join." I said, walking out of the station with them and immediately entering the passenger's seat.

Evans drove, which left Morgan in the backseat. Out of reflex, I opened the radio on my favorite station, and the music fills the small space.

"Never cared for what they do,  
>Never cared for what they know,<br>But I know."

"You have good taste in music." Evans commented.

"For a Fed or for a chick?" I asked.

"Both." He replied and I laughed.

"I think I like you, Evans."

"Please," he said, smiling as well, "call me Nick."

"See," Nick gestured at a signal found at the latest crime scene, "this is twelve's territory."

"And you think they're behind this?" Morgan asked, probably talking about the gang that rules this area.

"Does it matter?" Nick shrugged.

"Yes," I said, "it matters to us. You know this city and its gangs better than we do. We'd like to hear your theories."

"Ok," Nick sighed, "twelves has a captain. Street name playboy. Vice broke up a drug ring. Shot his brother, DOA. playboy thought he would kill us all."

"Well, it is pretty strong motivation," Morgan admitted, "but your commander said the dash cam only showed one attacker. Most 'bangers will bring some back-up just in case."

"Well, playboy runs the toughest crew in town." Nick said. "He's not 'most 'bangers.'

"Well, you said the dash cam only showed one attacker." I said. "Why show your face at all?"

"Because he had to." Morgan explained. "He wanted to take them both out at the house, but they broke protocol. Rodriguez approached the house by himself."

"Wait a minute," Nick started, "Are you telling me they screwed up?"

"No, Nick, I'm saying that they _split up_," I said. "They forced the Unsub to take them out separately, one here at the house and one at the car."

"That front unit's empty." Morgan said. "He could have set himself up there and waited. The element of surprise was on his side."

"Choice of neighborhood was deliberate." I added. "Neighbors around here are used to hearing gunfire."

"They'll blame it on the gangs," Morgan said, looking pointedly at Nick, "and so will the police."

"At least now, everyone with force knows he's out there." I said, trying to calm down the tension that lingered in the air. "It'll be harder for him to lure someone into his trap."

"Well, not necessarily." Morgan sighed. "Being a cop is always dangerous, but even with the extra back-up and rover cars added to the shifts, Phoenix PD's still going to have to do their job."

I sighed in understanding. "Which means walking into a potential ambush every time they take a call."

True to that, later that night, two officers were ambushed and attacked. One of them died at the spot.

Nick was standing next to the dead officer's partner, comforting him and I walked next to him and put an arm on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"He set us up." The officer said. "We knew he was out there, he still managed to set us up."

"I'm sorry." I said honestly.

"I watched my partner die," his voice broke, "and I couldn't do anything to save him."

"Don't worry, Ron." Nick said. "Playboy's going to pay for this."

"You saw playboy there?" I asked, surprised.

"No," Ron said, but –"

"We all know he did it, Agent." Nick completed.

I was taken aback at that. It seemed like Nick and I were getting closer, and that I started breaking through the wall Phoenix PD built to keep us out, even got as much as getting him to call me Chessi and not Agent. I guess that's gone now.

"No, we don't, _Lieutenant_." I said. _The two of us can play this game._ "You think I don't know how bad you want this guy? I spent more time as a teen at the police station near my house than at home. I used to sit next to one of the tables and do my homework, one of my best friends is the Sherriff there now. And I saw a lot of cops go down. Getting killed doing they're job, a cop's job, so don't think I don't know."

I turned to the officer next to us. "Officer, what happened when you got the call?"

"Nothing special." He said. "Report of an aggravated assault. We were on it."

"This your regular area?" I asked.

"We were additional tonight," He said, "added because of the shootings."

Nick and I exchanged worried glances. "Did you get a look at the guy?"

"Nothing." He replied, ashamed. "I was too damn scared. I'm still scared."

"You're not the only one." I said.

Another officer came and gave Ron his partner's hat. Inside, there was a picture of a woman and a child.

"My partner's family." The officer explained. "What am I going to tell them?"

"The only thing you can tell them." Nick said. "That we're going to catch the guy who did this."

"But the right guy." I said softly.

I started walking away and found out Nick followed me. I stopped and looked at him expectantly.

"What?" I asked after a couple of moment's silence.

"What did a girl like you do in a police station?" He asked.

"My uncle got arrested a lot." I said. "Mostly DUI but sometimes he got into bar fights, too. Police wouldn't let me release him myself 'till I was sixteen, so I just stayed there mostly, waiting for someone to come and let us go."

"Didn't they take you out of his custody?" Nick asked.

"They tried, once or twice." I shrugged. "Kept running away from foster-care and back to Bobby's. There was this one time I was arrested, when I was seventeen." I smiled mystically. "Joined a fight-club."

A small smile crept onto his lips. "I'd love to sit on a coffee and hear that story someday." He said.

"Someday." I said. Behind all of the people standing there, I thought I saw a familiar trench coat. "I need to go." I mumbled and ran towards it.

"Diana." The Angel greeted me.

"Cas." I replied. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to warn you." He said. "Your brothers are currently assisting in hiding Anna –"

"That poor chick you guys want to kill?" I asked. "I've heard."

"- and one of the ideas that were brought up in Heaven was to force them into helping us, by using you." Castiel finished.

"What?" I asked.

"Uriel and some of the other Angels think that by taking you as leverage, they can make your brothers do as they wish." Cas said.

"So you're here to take me to them?" I asked.

"No." I looked at Castiel in surprise. "Until I am told differently, my orders are to protect you." He said. He opened his hand before me and a necklace appeared. "Engraved on this necklace is an Enochian symbol that would protect you from any Angel that want to do you harm."

I took it and looked at it. "Enochian?" I asked.

"Language of Heaven." Cas replied. "Wear it." He urged and I immediately obliged. He smiled softly. "I believe what you say on occasions such as this is, 'it looks lovely'."

"Thank you." I whispered. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?"

"It is my job to protect you." Castiel said. "In every way that I see fit. Go." He added. "You need to get back to your friends and Nick. You have nothing to worry about. You are safe."

He disappeared with a flutter of wings, leaving me staring for a couple of moments at the point he was standing seconds ago. Turning on my heel and walking away, I could only think one comprehended thought.

_How could he have known about Nick?_

"Fight-club." Nick smiled at me. "Must bring back the old days for you."

We were just about to raid an illegal fight-club, after finding out that our Unsub had a couple of other victim's before he started targeting cops, and that the first was going to this club.

I managed to get Cas knowing Nick's name out of my mind, after realizing he was probably there for a while before I noticed him, and heard some of my conversation with Nick. This whole mind-reading thing is going to take a while to get used to.

"Very funny." I said, but I still smiled. "I'm still not gonna tell you that story."

"Shame." Nick replied and we ran in.

The place was immediately filled with 'FBI! On the ground!' calls and I smiled a bit, remembering the night the club I was at was busted.

"Ain't breaking no laws here, officer." The man that seemed to be in charged said. "Agents," he added, seeing us. "No matter what it looks like –"

"I think he's trying to let us know they have a right to be idiots." Prentiss said.

"They do, but not here." Nick said. "Listen up, folks. This warehouse is not private property. It is owned by the city, which means you all are going to jail. Pack 'em up, let's go."

"We ain't hurting nobody," the man insisted, "except maybe each other."

"I know," I said, handcuffing him, "but we're still taking you in." a playful smile crossed my lips. "Unless you want to answer some questions and make all this go away."

"So ask me." He said.

"You know this man?" Rossi asked, pulling out a photo of the dead security guard.

"Yeah." The man replied. "Boom. I heard. But I didn't kill him."

"No, but someone who came here did." I said.

"No way." He replied. "Boom could take all of us."

"We aren't looking for a tough guy." Morgan said. "The man we're looking for probably lost every fight. He came in here trying to be a man, but he failed."

"Guy went down easily." I added. "Candy ass. Maybe even in his first fight. He probably reacted poorly to that."

"To the point where you and your boys, you ridiculed him." Rossi said. "All this led him to pick up a gun."

"There was a guy." The man said. "Called himself 'Animal'. Lost every fight, but he kept coming back, getting in Boom's face, calling him out."

"Most guys lose big, they run home, tail between their legs." I said, not understanding.

"Well, this one freaked." The man said.

Realization swept over me. "There's something about that hand at your throat, when you're beat." I said. "Knowing your opponent's got your whole life in his hand."

Everybody looked at me oddly, though I thought I saw appreciation in some of the fighters, boss man included.

"Yeah, it's primal, man." He said.

"When he lingers, that's what he's doing to his victims." I explained. "Proving his power over life and death."

"What's animal's real name?" Nick asked.

"There's no names here." I said. "Just nicknames."

"Lady's right." The man said. "Like me. I'm Beanie."

"Well, what do you know about this animal?" Rossi asked. "Anything at all?"

"Nothing." Beanie said and I sighed.

"That's the way it works, you know?" I said. "Don't talk about it."

"How about a description?" Morgan asked.

"Scrawny," Beanie said, "white trash. Thought he's a whole lot tougher than he is."

"Get him set up with a sketch artist." Rossi ordered and I nodded.

"Let's go, Beanie." I said and took him out of the building alongside Nick.

"You know a lot about the club, honey." Beanie smiled at me. "A lot more than you should."

"Yeah?" I asked, getting him in the car. "Interesting."

"What was your nickname?" He asked.

"The guys called me Doll when I arrived." I said with a smile. "Nickname kinda stuck."

"Well, Doll." He smiled. "I'd be glad to see what you've got someday."

"In your dreams, Beanie." Nick said, pushing him into the car. He turned to look at me. "Doll?"

"I was a seventeen-year-old in a club full of dudes." I said. "They barely even let me in."

"What made them change their minds?" He asked.

"I told them I could beat their top three," I smiled, "and I did."

"Do I want to know how you could fight like that at seventeen?" Nick asked. "Or how did you even look after that?"

"I'm full of secrets, Lieutenant." I smiled. "And I just love seeing you trying to uncover them."

We were just taking the killer into custody, after he took our bait and tried to kill Hotch when we were back from a false lead we had received. Morgan was taking him inside, while I stood and spoke to Nick a bit.

"You knew he wouldn't be at the first address." Nick accused.

"We figured he'd wait until Hotch was alone." I admitted.

"So the tip was a diversion." He said.

"Something like that." I smiled.

"Thank you." He said. "And your team."

"No thanks necessary, Nick." I said. "We did it together."

"How about we go for that cup of coffee you promised me earlier?" He asked.

"Don't you have a wife to go back to?" I asked. "I heard you talking to that woman, the day we arrived. You spoke about Sarah, your wife, isn't she?"

"Yeah." Nick smiled. "Six months pregnant. Light of my life."

"Go to her." I said. "You've got something good, don't ruin it."

"I won't." He said, and walked into the station.

"I'm so glad to have you back, Darlin'. Don't worry," I patted the motor, "I'll never leave you like that again."

"I'm glad to see you like what we've done." Tom laughed.

"It's great." I smiled. "Jo- Daniel, can I have a word?"

"Sure." He said. "I think I'm done for the day, why don't we go and have some coffee? I know just the place not far from here, and it looks to me like you've got some explaining to do."

"We both have." I muttered, but got on the bike non-the-less and followed him to the café.

We sat down and gave our orders, and I started explaining.

"After I finished learning, I applied to the FBI." I said. "Went through the academy, top scores at everything, and got into the BAU. I changed my name from Winchester to Chess to avoid trouble because of my brothers." I shrugged. "Not that it helped much. What are you doing here? And what's this whole 'Daniel' thing?"

"I shouldn't talk about it." He said, shifting uncomfortably in his sit.

"You know I won't tell anyone." I said quietly. "What's going on?"

"I joined Witness Protection Program." He replied. "My boss got involved in some deep crap - money laundering using the garage – and it was either that or jail."

"So you entered the program." I repeated.

"New name, new town, new everything." He said. "I'm not supposed to be in contact with people I knew from before. I built myself a life here, Diana. I have friends and a job I love, a _legit_ job. If anybody finds out…" He trailed off.

"Don't worry about it." I said. "I work hard to get to where I am now, too. If anyone will find out I helped you break the law, it could get me into big troubles."

"It's been a long time." Daniel reminded me. "The statute of limitations –"

"Does not make it any more illegal." I said, getting up. "I _will_ get my ass kicked out of the FBI. I won't tell anyone, if you'd keep my secret, too."

"Which one?" He asked. "That you know me, or about what's really out there?"

I looked at him. "I thought you didn't believe me." I said, half accusingly.

"I didn't." Daniel said. "Things changed."

"What happened?"

"One of my workers got attacked by a Vampire." He said. "Those kind of things make you see the truth."

"I'm sorry for your friend." I said honestly. "But I'm glad you at least don't see me as a wacko anymore."

"I was wrong." He said, standing up as well. "And stupid. I let my fear affect what I was thinking. I really didn't want to believe that monsters are real."

"You said I was crazy." I accused.

"I was stupid." He repeated. "I ruined the one good thing I've ever had."

"Daniel…" I started but he cut me off, pressing his lips on top of mine. I gave in for a moment before backing away. "We can't do that." I said. "_You_ can't do that. You can't just charge back into my life and assume we pick from where we start off."

"I didn't think I can." Daniel replied. "I'm asking for a chance to start over. Blank page."

"Why should I agree?" I asked.

"Just go on a date with me." He said. "One date."

"One date." I repeated. "No promises for more."

"Not asking for any." He smiled. "Tomorrow night. 8pm. I'll pick you up from your place."

"I might have a case." I warned. "I might cancel at the last moment, or even go away in the middle of it."

"I don't care." Daniel said. "I'll keep trying 'till you can." He pecked my lips once more and ran out, probably before I changed my mind.

I walked out of the door, dazed, and nearly bumped into the man who stood outside.

"I'm sorry." I said. "Didn't see where I was – Cas?" I took the sight of the Angel in front of me. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to inform you that you are of no danger any longer." He said. "The Angels decided that using you as bait is not the solution, and they are currently searching for other ways."

"Like threatening Dean they'll kill Sam?" I asked and Castiel looked at the ground, ashamed.

"I have to follow my orders." He mumbled. "Even at times when I disagree with it."

"It's okay." I was quick to relax the Angel. "I'm not mad."

"You're not?" He asked in disbelief.

"No." I said. "I don't agree with it, either, but sometimes there are things we have to do, even if we're not happy about it. I get it."

Cas nodded before he looked at the direction Daniel walked towards.

"The man you were with," he started, "he put his lips to yours. Why? Is it some kind of a farewell gesture?"

"Sort of." I said, thinking to myself that now is probably not the time to start explaining romance to an Angel.

"Im that case," he kissed my lips softly for a moment, before backing away, "farewell, Diana. Until the next time."

He disappeared again and I leaned on Darlin', hand at my lips.

I told myself it meant nothing. That he didn't even understand that it's supposed to mean something, and that I shouldn't even care. But the small voice in the back of my head kept pushing.

_If you shouldn't even care, because it meant nothing, why are you disappointed it didn't mean something?_


	9. Night Out

**A/N:**** This chapter was so hard! It's also shorter than the rest of them, but it's important for the rest of the plot so I decided to leave it as it is and hope I'll get the next chapte longer.**

**Hope you'd like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Superatural, Criminal Minds or any songs.**

* * *

><p><strong>"Dating is like a game.<br>If someone feels like they have won us over too easily,  
>they won't see our value and will go elsewhere<br>to find something they have to work a little bit harder for."  
>Daniel Willey<strong>

"I have decided!"

I jumped as I walked out of the shower and heard the familiar voice of Gabriel.

"What have you decided and why can't it wait until after I get dressed?" I asked.

He snapped his fingers, causing the towel to disappear from me. I almost jumped to hide myself behind something when I realized he formed a tight, green dress that sat on me perfectly. My hair felt like it was tied up, too, and though I couldn't see my face I would bet that it was fixed with makeup. Thankfully, the sandals that appeared on my feet, though fancy and nothing I would ever choose to wear, weren't heeled, so I still managed to walk around.

"I decided what I want." He continued as if nothing strange happened. "You owe me one," he reminded me, "and I decided what I want."

"Fine," I said, picking up my purse, "I'll play. What do you want?"

"I want you to go on a date with me."

I looked up at him with disbelief. "What?"

"You. Me." Gabriel raised an eyebrow in a manner that should have probably been seducingly. "Date."

"I can't." I said.

"Of course you can!" He said. "Come on. It will be fun."

"I mean," I said slowly, the way you explain something to a child, "I can't tonight. I already have a date. _Not_ with you."

"I'll bring you back before the date starts." He promised.

"He picks me up in thirty minutes." I said and Gabriel waved his hand at me.

"Trickster." He said.

"Angel." I corrected.

"Still can do it." He said. "I can take you out to an all-night date and not a single moment will pass."

"Why do you want this?" I asked. "What is it with me that everybody wants to take me on a date today?"

"It must be your charming personality." Gabriel said mockingly.

I laughed humorlessly before looking at the clock. "You return me to this exact moment?" I asked and he nodded. "If we're one minute late, I'm killing you."

"I know." He replied, offering me his hand. "Shall we go, m'Lady?"

"You are such an idiot." I laughed and took his hand.

Immediately, we appeared in a room full of people. The music was blasting through the speakers and I saw people turning and jumping in the area not far from us.

"A dancing club?" I asked Gabriel when I comprehended where we were. "You took me to a dancing club?"

"One that plays your kind of music." He said with a smile, taking my hand and dragging me to the floor.

The song currently playing was Billy Idol's "Dancing with Myself", and as much as I wanted to pout at Gabriel for bringing me to a place like that, I couldn't help but enjoy the song. It really _was_ my kind of music.

We started dancing to the music. Gabriel turned out to be quite the dancer – he jumped and turned and danced, all while holding my hand and making sure I don't feel like he's forgotten about me even for a second. We danced to the sound of Michael Jackson's "Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough" and David Bowie's "Dancing in the Streets" before a new song, one I was unfamiliar with, started playing.

"So 1, 2, 3, take my hand and come with me  
>Because you look so fine<br>And I really wanna make you mine."

I looked at Gabriel in disbelief and he smiled, taking my hand and pulling me into a Swing-Style dance to the sound of the beat music.

"Oh, 4, 5, 6 c'mon and get your kicks  
>Now you don't need that money<br>When you look like that, do ya honey?"

He spun me around and threw me in the air, all the while singing into my ear.

"Big black boots,  
>Long brown hair,<br>She's so sweet  
>With her 'Get Back' stare."<p>

"You're an idiot." I informed him with a smile.

"I like it when you dirty-talk." He replied and I laughed.

"Well I could see,  
>You home with me,<br>But you were with another man, yea!  
>I know we,<br>Ain't got much to say,  
>Before I let you get away, yea!"<p>

He stopped and looked into my eyes, putting a hand on his chest as he theatrically sang:

"I said, are you gonna be my girl?"

We stayed at the club for about an hour after that, before I decided to call it a night so that I won't fall asleep during my date with Daniel.

Even though I realized by then that we were in a world Gabriel created, and that he could just 'zap' me home whenever he wanted to, he insisted we'd walk. Said something about sealing the date.

We walked silently to my house, commenting about one thing or another but mainly just enjoying each other's company. As we reached my house, I paused and looked at him. Uncertain of what to say, I opened my mouth to speak when he talked.

"You know," he said playfully, "I never got to dance a slow dance with you tonight."

A song started playing to the background, I rolled my eyes, took his hands, and came closer to him so we could dance to the sounds of Michael Jackson's "You are Not Alone".

"I had a really good time tonight." I admitted.

"Me too." Gabriel said. "It's been a while since I did this."

"Been on a date?" I laughed.

"Been on a date with someone I didn't create." He said

The laughter died in my throat. "You're alone all the time, aren't you?" I asked in realization.

"Most of the time, yeah." He admitted.

"Is that why you wanted me to go on a date with you tonight?" I asked. "You didn't want to be alone?"

"What? No!"

But he was a terrible liar.

"Gabriel," I said softly, "I really did enjoyed tonight and I would love to do it again. _As friends_." I clarified. "I need to go now, but tonight doesn't count as the one I owe you. If you don't want to be alone, all you gotta do is ask."

I kissed his cheek before backing away and entering my house. The moment the door closed behind me, the world Gabriel created for our date dissolved and the late night hour turned to evening. A quick look at the clock verified that Gabriel almost did good to his word to bring me back to the moment we left.

Almost, because it was one minute late.

* * *

><p>"Reservation for two under McCloud." Daniel told the hostess and I couldn't care but cover a smile.<p>

"McCloud?" I asked. "Really?"

"Don't start." He said as we walked towards the table. "It's not like Chess is so much better."

"Actually," I said as I sat down, "it is."

Daniel laughed and picked up his menu, looking at it. "I'd like a steak, and a glass of red wine." He said.

"Make that two." I said, and she walked off.

"So how's at Quantico?" Daniel asked. "What are you doing there? I bet you're working at International Connections, using all the languages you know."

"Actually, I work at the Behavior Analysis Unit and using all the languages I know." I replied.

"Profiler?" He asked. "Did anyone ever tell you profiling was sexy?"

"I have to admit, you're the first." I said. "Most people think it's weird that I catch serial killers."

"I'm not most people." He said. "Most people find it weird that a girl is calling her motor 'Darlin' and that she can take care of it on her own."

"And you?"

He smiled. "It's just one of the things that make me love you even more. What?" He added when I rolled my eyes. "I'm just being honest here."

"How's the work at the Repair Shop?" I asked and the conversation rolled to mechanics and cars.

The date flowed from that point on. We talked and laughed and retold old stories, and for a moment it seemed like nothing has changed.

When the desert arrived, I thought I saw him saying something to the waitress, but minutes passed and nothing happened, so I decided I was probably imagining it earlier.

Dinner was over, Daniel insisted to pay for both of us, and I went to grab my coat when the music started playing.

"Do you remember this song?" Daniel whispered in my ear.

"Of course I do." I replied, smiling softly at him.

"They played it at the restaurant on our first date." He reminded me.

"I said I always liked it, so you made sure they'll play it on every date we had." I said.

"Including today." He whispered, and pulled me into a kiss.

This kiss was different than the other two we had since he returned to my life. The first one, I was too surprised so I pulled off quickly, and the second was nothing more than a peck. This was _definitely_ more than just a peck, and this time I didn't pull off, but gave into the feelings that rose inside me, feelings I hadn't felt for a very long time.

We kissed, and the world melted into nonexistence around us. All that I felt was the warmth of his lips, the softness of his touch, and the music that still played as background to the scene we were a part of.

"I can't help falling in love with you."

Daniel pulled apart, causing me to lean forward in an attempt to make the kiss last just a bit longer. He looked into my eyes for a moment before clearing his throat.

"I should probably take you back home." He said.

"Yeah." I replied, trying to hide the disappointment I felt. "You probably should." He started walking towards the exit, and I intended to follow but my feet refused to obey. He looked at me questioningly as I offered casually, "Or we could go to your place."

A smile split his face apart. "My place it is."

* * *

><p><em>I was Dean again, leaning on the Impala with a bear in my hand while talking to Sammy about managing to escape the Demons and Angels.<em>

_"Can't believe we made it out of there again." Sam said._

_"I know you heard him." Dean said, his voice shaking._

_"Who?"_

_"Alastair." The blood froze in my veins at the name of the Demon. "What he said about how I had promise."_

_So the boys met Alistair. How could I have missed that?_

_"I heard him." Sam simply replied._

_"You're not curious?" Dean asked in surprise. I was surprised as well. Even though I lived Hell with Dean, there were still moments I didn't experience, and I wanted to know what happened. You could only imagine what Sam's feeling._

_"Dean, I'm damn curious." He said. "But… you're not talking about Hell."_

_There was a couple of moments of silence before Dean spoke again._

_"It wasn't four months, you know." He said._

_"What?" Sam asked, confused._

_"It was four months up here," Dean said, and I remembered how I explained Dave and Bobby about Hell-time, "but down there… I don't know. Time's different. It was more like 40 years."_

_"Oh, my god." Sam whispered._

_"They, uh," I can tell how hard it is for him to bring up those memories, to remember all he's been through, and I feel his pain. As I always have. "They _sliced_ and _carved_ and _tore_ at me in ways that you…" He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Until there was nothing left. And then, suddenly I would be whole again. Like magic." He added bitterly. "Just so they could start in all over. And Alastair, at the end of every day,_ every one_, he would come over. And he would make me an offer. To take me off the rack if I put souls on. If I started the torturing."_

_The offer that broke my heart every time. The offer I sometimes wished Dean would take. Until the day he did._

_"And every day," Dean continued, "I told him to stick it where the sun shines. For 30 years, I told him. But then I couldn't do it anymore, Sammy." He said in shame. "I couldn't. And I got off that rack." Tears rose to his eyes. "God help me, I got right off it, and I started ripping them apart. I lost count of how many souls. The – The things that I did to them."_

_I could see Sam's face, the look that crossed them, the desire to take all that pain away from Dean, and agreed with it completely._

_"Dean," he said, "Dean, look, you held out for 30 years. That's longer than anyone would have."_

_"How I feel this inside me…" Dean choked on his tears. "I wish I couldn't feel anything, Sammy. I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing."_

* * *

><p>My cellphone was ringing. It was ringing for about ten minutes already, and I finally gave up trying to ignore it, thinking that whoever it was on the other side wasn't going to stop. I moved a little so I could reach it, but a firm hand locked on my waist.<p>

"Don't go." Daniel mumbled into my shoulder-length hair. "Stay."

"I need to pick up." I said. "They won't let us sleep."

He let go of me for long enough so I could answer the phone before I fell back on the bed next to him.

"Hello?" I asked, still half asleep.

"Chessi, where are you?" Garcia asked. "I've been trying to reach you in forever."

"I think I overslept." I mumbled. "What's going on?"

"A new case popped by." She said. "Briefing's in fifteen."

"I'm gonna be late." I said, slipping out of the bed and away from Daniel.

"What?" Garcia asked. "Why? Your apartment isn't that far away."

"Penny, I'm gonna be late," I whispered, "or I'll arrive with last night's clothes."

"_Oh_." She said. "Okay. I'll make sure briefing's in thirty. But you have to tell me everything."

"Fine, fine." I said, swallowing a yawn. "See you there."

"You need to go?" Daniel asked from where he was laying on the bed.

"Yeah." I said. "A case popped up and, apparently, I'm already late."

"I don't want you to go." He said. "Can't you call a day off?"

"No." I said harshly. "I'm not calling days off for anything less than a 911, ever. That's rule number one, and it's unbreakable."

"Alright, alright." Daniel said. "Will I see you when you come back?" He asked.

"Definitely." I said, leaning in and kissing him. "I'll call you once I'm back in town."

"Looking forward to it." He smiled and I walked outside.

I took a taxi to my apartment where I tossed away last night's clothing for something more work-appropriate and ran outside. Jumping on Darlin', I drove to Quantico where I ran to the conference room, where everyone were ready to start the briefing.

"Sorry I'm late." I mumbled as I sat down.

"No problem." Garcia said with a smile and I rolled my eyes.

Todd explained us about the case and we walked out of the room and towards the exit when Garcia caught my arm.

"Spill it out." She ordered.

"There's not much to spill out." I shrugged.

"You stayed the night." She countered. "There's so much to spill out."

"He's an old boyfriend from Harvard." I said. "I met him when I took Darlin' to the garage and he convinced me to give what we had a second chance. The date was last night and things just… clicked."

"I bet they did." She smiled. "When will I get to meet him?"

"Nowhere soon." I said. "Things may be nice right now, but he hurt me once before and I do not intend to let it happen again. Until I'm not sure what's going on between us, nobody can know."

"How did he hurt you?" Garcia asked.

"I told him about the supernatural world because I was tired of lying to him." I said. "And he called me crazy`."

"Wow." She breathed.

"Exactly." I sighed. "So until I'm not certain I won't get hurt this time around, too, don't tell anybody he even exists."


	10. Apology

**Hi, guys, I just wanted to say I'm sorry I didn't upload on Wednesday, and to apologize further because I'm not going to uplaod tomorrow, either...**

**I didn't forget about you guys, I just have a terrible writer's block but hopefully I'll manage to publish another chapter by this wednesday... I'm having difficulties writing the next two or three chpaters, having ****_no idea _****what to write in them, but after that I'm writing season 4 finale so it should start getting better since I have a bunch of ideas for season 5.**

**On the meanwhile, I've wanted to know what do you think about Daniel, because his character is about to get very important in this part, and to know if you want more Gabriel scenes, because I have a bunch of ideas for the relationship between him and Diana.**

**Reviews replies:**

**fanfic1892: Sam and Dean _will_ meet Diana again, it's even going to be on this part, and more than once (I have about two times where they don't know it's her and another two BIG times where they do) but a fair warning - things aren't gonna be that easy, they're still Winchesters.**

**Lizzy B: I am planning on having a Reid/Chessi relationship, but as it seems now, it won't last very long. Also, it won't be until season 7, because getting rid of all other competition takes time and heartbreaks.**

**Your reviews mean the world to me, please keep them going!**


	11. New Years' Eve

**A/N:**** Writing this chapter was Hell! It took me so long, and I deleted and changed so much before I was finally happy with the result...**

**I finished it yesterday, sent it to my lovely beta, and here you go!**

**The next chapter, by the way, is already mostly done and will be posted on Wednesday, as usual.**

**Tell me how you like it, so far.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.**

* * *

><p><strong>"Tomorrow, is the first blank page of a 365 page book.<br>Write a good one."  
>Brad Paisley<strong>

The ringing of my phone woke Daniel and myself up, as it did most mornings these days. Every time I was in town, I'd call him and we would meet up. At first, we were going out on dates and watching movies, but every night ended in his bed, so we just gave up on the rest at a certain point. My apartment was practically abandoned – I only went there every once in a while for clean clothes or when I had free days and Daniel worked.

"Make it stop." Daniel mumbled. "It's too early."

"It's seven a.m." I informed him. "You need to get up soon, too."

"Not for another fifteen minutes." He said, getting up on one elbow. "How about we make the best of those fifteen minutes?"

"I really need to answer my phone." Was my only reply as I picked up the still-ringing device. "Chess." I answered.

"We've got a case." I heard JJ's voice from the other end of the line. "Local serial killer, briefing in twenty."

"I'll be there." I said, trying to ignore the soft trail of kisses Daniel was leaving on my collarbone. "I need to go." I told him.

"No, you don't." He said. "You need to help me make the best of the next fifteen minutes."

"I need to be at Quantico in twenty." I said as I pulled myself out of his reach. "The case is in town, though."

"So you won't bail on tonight?" He asked, eyeing me as I dressed.

"I'm not sure." I admitted. "I'll probably stay late."

"It's New Year's Eve!" He protested. "You can't miss our date on New Year's Eve!"

"Honestly," I mumbled as I quickly kissed him, "I sometimes wonder who the woman in this relationship is."

"If you'd stay for another fifteen minutes I'd remind you!" He called after me.

_However_, I thought to myself as I started Darlin' and drove to Quantico, _Daniel did have a point_.

When I was in Harvard and we dated, one of our first dates was on New Year's Eve. It was also the first time we kissed – the midnight kiss – so the date was important to both of us. Oddly as it was, Daniel remembered it, and he planned a nice evening for us both to celebrate it.

But serial killers don't care about plans, and therefore neither did I.

I parked my motorcycle and walked to the conference room, where I was greeted by curious glances from everyone but Garcia, who smiled knowingly, while JJ started briefing us.

"Tyra Marshal and Jinnah Borders." JJ said as we watched the pictures of two happy girls smiling at the camera. "They both disappeared three weeks ago while they were out on a girls' night out. Their bodies were found exactly one week later, mutilated and raped." She waited for a moment to let her words sink before continuing. "Amanda Robb was out with a couple of friends when she decided to call an early night. Her body, too, was found a week later, in similar conditions. And lastly, Lois Evart and Shona Timor. Disappeared a week ago, their bodies were found today."

"They were all taken on Wednesday nights, and murdered on Tuesday nights the next week." Morgan said.

"Clearly the same Unsub." Rossi said thoughtfully. "He works on a schedule."

"And the schedule means he'll take another woman tonight." I mumbled. "Any connection between the victims?"

"Other than the fact that they were all out at bars the night they disappeared, we've got nothing." JJ said.

"What about the bars?" Prentiss asked.

"We know what bar Amanda Robb was going to, thanks to her friends, but we can't tell what bars the other victims attended."

"The disappearances were here, in Virginia." Reid noted. "Why were we only called onto the case now?"

"There wasn't enough evidence to connect the victims in the first two cases." JJ explained. "One woman in opposite of two, girls' night out in opposite of drinking with friends. Only after the third abduction, we managed to establish a connection between the victims, and even then it was due to the state in which the bodies were found."

"Alright," Hotch said, "Reid, I want you on the geographical profile, Morgan, JJ, and Prentiss, question the family and friends of the victims and Rossi and Chess, you'll go to the club Amanda Robb was at with her friends."

We nodded and walked outside to do as we were told. I followed Rossi to the elevator, and later to the parking lot where he opened the passenger door for me. I got the cue that he was driving and pouted, but got in the car nonetheless.

Rossi started driving in silence, not saying a single word but sending glances at me from time to time.

"What?" I asked after a while, annoyed.

"Nothing." He said, clearly lying. "How are you these days?"

"Fine." I said. "Great, actually."

"Anything in particular?" He asked.

"No." I lied smoothly. "Nothing that comes to my mind."

"Of course." He said, parking the car. Before he opened the door, he turned to look at me. "You work with profilers, Chessi." He said. "I bet I'm not the only one who noticed you're always wearing the same three sets of clothes."

A blush rose to my cheeks as we stepped out of the car and walked into the club. We walked straight to the bartender and introduced ourselves.

"I am SSA Rossi and this is SSA Chess from the FBI." Rossi said, as we showed him our badges. "Do you mind telling us where the manager is?"

"Tom's not here right now." The bartender said. "But you can ask me whatever you want – I work almost every night."

"Of course." I smiled politely at him, and pulled out Amanda Robb's photo. "Do you recognize this woman, Mr. …?" I paused, looking at him in expectation.

"Dom." He provided. "André Dom." He took a long look at the picture before replying. "Yeah, it's the girl who went missing a couple of weeks back, isn't she?" He asked. "Police already came to question us about her. What are the Feds doing on a case like that?"

"We have a reason to believe Miss Robb's murder was only a part of a series of cases." Rossi said. "Do you recognize any of these women?"

Dom took another long look at the faces of the other four victims. "Maybe?" He said, uncertain of his answer. "A lot of people pass here every night, I'm sorry. I can't remember all of them."

"And yet you remembered Amanda Robb." I noted.

"Yeah, well, when police questions you about a girl gone missing, you kinda remember." Dom replied coldly.

"Thank you, anyway." Rossi said, forming a fake smile. "Here's my card, call me if you remember anything."

"Sure thing." He said as he watched Rossi nearly dragging me outside.

"What are you doing?" I asked the moment Dom was out of earshot.

"Trying to stop you from killing the poor man." Rossi replied.

"He's clearly hiding something!" I protested.

"I know that." He said. "But you have to remember that we don't have any evidence. No DNA left on the bodies, no eyewitnesses. He even worked that night, which means he probably has an alibi."

"What are we supposed to do, then?" I asked.

"As I see it, we have no choice other than to catch him in the act." Rossi sighed. "We need to come back here tonight and keep an eye on him."

"That means we need to let another woman get abducted." I said.

"If we're lucky, we can stop it from happening." He said. "But we have no other choice than to let him try."

* * *

><p>"I don't understand why <em>I<em> need to do this, too." I said as Garcia helped me get dressed before the team arrived. I was supposed to come with Rossi, but stay in the shadows and out of eyesight. "He already saw me – he knows I'm a Fed."

"We need every pair of eyes we've got." Garcia replied. "And that includes you."

"But why do I have to wear _this_?" I asked, motioning at the thigh-length party dress and the three-inch-high heels. "How do people even move around in this stuff?"

"With a lot of practice." She said before backing away from me. "Go on. Walk towards me."

I steadied myself and took a deep breath before walking two steps in her direction, nearly falling as I did.

"See?" She said with a smile. "Was it really that hard?"

"Yes." I growled just as a knock was heard on the door.

Rossi walked in, wearing a fine shirt and a neatly ironed pair of jeans. It was so odd seeing him dressed that way, so different from what I was used to, I just stood and gaped at him, causing him to frown.

"Does it look that bad?" He asked.

"No!" I called, back to my senses. "It looks fine, just… odd. It's very… not you to be dressed like that."

"The jeans are better than I thought they would be." He admitted, nearing me. "It's less uncomfortable than I thought." He looked me up and down. "That dress is way too short." He commented, going into protective mode.

"That dress is perfect!" Garcia called. "Don't you think she looks lovely?"

"Too lovely, if you ask me." He muttered but held my hand nonetheless. "Are you ready?"

"No." I said. "There is absolutely no reason for us being there."

"They might need help with chasing the Unsub." Rossi noted.

"With these shoes?" I asked, gesturing at my ridiculously high heels. "I can barely _walk_. You want me to chase down an Unsub?"

"Do you have anything better to do tonight?" He asked with a look that made it clear to me he knew what is the answer.

My mind took me back to the moment two hours ago, when Hotch informed me I will need to join them in the club. Of course, I immediately informed Daniel I couldn't make it to our date, and that wasn't a nice conversation.

_"You're doing what?" He asked._

_"Undercover mission." I replied. "Someone's kidnapping girls at clubs, and we're going there to try and catch him while at it."_

_"By posing as bait?" _

_"I'm not posing as bait." I said, annoyed. "I'm there as backup."_

_"On New Year's Eve?" Daniel asked. "Causing you to cancel our date?"_

_"That's my job, Daniel." I told him. "And it's coming as part of the deal."_

_"But if you told them you have a date for tonight, wouldn't they let you off this once?" I didn't reply. "Diana, you did tell them about us, didn't you?"_

_"Of course I have." I said swiftly. "Why wouldn't I?"_

_"For the same reason you didn't take me to your place yet." He said. "Because you don't trust me. You don't believe I really want it to work this time."_

_"No!" I called. "It's because I have a dangerous life. Had it even before I started working for the FBI. Creatures and demons and even angels follow me wherever I go, and I want to keep you safe!"_

_"Yeah, right." Daniel replied. "You know what? You say you don't trust me I'm serious about this? I think you're the one who's not serious. If you don't want this – tell me. But stop keeping me in the dark."_

"No." I told Rossi in response to the question he just asked, ignoring Garcia's stare on my back. "Nothing better to do tonight."

Rossi smiled, a smile that showed me he didn't believe a word I said, and walked me out to the street and towards his car. I leaned on his shoulder as I walked, afraid to trip or fall from the height of my heels, but eventually made it in one piece, and we drove to the club.

We arrived at nine thirty, nearly two hours after the club opened up and just as the place started getting crowded. Rossi and I stood in line with the rest of the people, playing the act of a couple, which, if I might say, was utterly gross.

As soon as we entered the club, we found ourselves an empty corner and sat by one of the tables, drinking soft drinks and keeping an eye on the place. Rossi looked at the exit, to check if there were any girls who are leaving the club on their own while I looked at Dom, the bartender we talked to.

I had a weird feeling about him, but so far, he seemed to be doing nothing other than his job.

On the dance floor, you could see Morgan, Prentiss and JJ dancing, and Reid sitting with Hotch not far from there, keeping an eye on the area.

Time passed and nothing happened. By what little information we managed to get about the kidnappings, the girls were taken at some point between eleven to eleven thirty. Eleven came and passed, and so did eleven thirty. When the time was nearing midnight, I started getting hopeless.

"I think we missed it." I told Rossi.

"What?" He asked.

"We missed it!" I called out, trying to make sure he heard me over the loud music.

"I think you're right!" He called back and I sighed.

"God, I hate parties." I muttered.

"What's not to like about parties?" Rossi asked.

"What is?" I replied. "Way too many people who drink way too much _and_ music I don't like."

"Maybe you've never been to a party with the right people." I heard a familiar voice saying from behind me and turned to look at it's owner.

"Daniel!" I called. "What are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd go to a party." He said, smiling. "Wouldn't want to be alone at New Years' Eve."

"Do you two know each other?" Rossi asked.

"You could say that." I mumbled, knowing that he knows _exactly_ what's going on.

"Listen," Daniel continued, "they're playing our song."

I listened, confused as the music stopped, when I started hearing the crowd chanting.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

"No, no, no!" I called. "I'm working!"

"Seven! Six! Five!"

"Am I missing something?" Rossi asked, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Four! Three! Two!"

"Daniel, don't you dare -"

"One! Happy new year!" everybody screamed and Daniel leaned in and kissed me.

I returned the kiss for a moment or two, letting the emotion swoop over me before pulling away and turning to a bemused Dave next to me.

"I think I'll tell Hotch you're taking the rest of the night off." He said with a smile.

"I think it would be best." I agreed and looked at Daniel again. "Let's get outta here."

"My place?" He asked but I shook my head.

"No. Mine."

* * *

><p>I walked to the bullpen area the next day, a smile on my face as I enjoyed the last bit of happiness left from last night before being thrown back into the depressing world of kidnapping and murders.<p>

"Somebody looks like she had a good time last night!" Morgan said with a smile.

"I really did." I replied happily.

"Who's the lucky fella?" JJ asked.

"And will we get to meet him soon?" Prentiss questioned. "Because if he's important enough that you left while on a case, it must be serious."

"He should come here today." I told them. "He has the day off today, so we decided we are going to move last night's date to today."

"Well, I hope you'd have a good time." Morgan said before the laugh drifted off his face. "I hope we finish the case today so that you'll be able to go out." He said worryingly. "Another girl was taken last night."

"26 years old Jessica Monroe." Garcia told us in the conference room. "Was out for drinks with some friends last night, her roommate said she never returned home."

"Couldn't she just be staying at someone's house?" I asked. "After all, it _was_ New Years' Eve last night."

"According to the roommate, she'd never do that without leaving a text." JJ replied. "And she was with us at the club last night."

"We missed her." Reid said gloomily. "She was right in front of us and we missed her."

"We know it's not Dom." Rossi added. "He was there all night."

"He's still hiding something." I mumbled.

"I think you're right." Prentiss said. "I only talked to him for a couple of minutes, but he gave me an odd feeling. And I saw him talking to Monroe."

"He probably talked to a lot of women." Hotch said. "Part of the job."

"And he has a rock solid alibi." Rossi said. "We saw him there. He couldn't have done it."

"He could have had a partner." I suggested.

"Our profile doesn't indicate a partner." Hotch said.

"Profiles aren't accurate." Prentiss said. "Just because we didn't think there was a partner doesn't mean there isn't."

"We could still be right." Reid said.

"I'm telling you he had something to do with the kidnapping." I said. "I just know he did."

"It's okay to be wrong sometimes, Chessi." Morgan said. "Sometimes our hunches are wrong."

"Are you even considering the possibility that I'm right?" I asked.

"Are you considering the possibility that you're wrong?"

"Alright, let's stop it." Hotch's stern voice brought us back to the present. "Morgan, Rossi and Prentiss, you go questioning possible witnesses. Chessi, JJ and Reid, you're staying here with me. Garcia, I need everything you've got about Jessica Monroe." He ordered and we all nodded before walking out of the conference room.

Three hours later found me with no progress regarding the kidnapping, walking into Garcia's room.

"Penny, I need your help with –"

I stopped dead track as I saw Prentiss already sitting in the room next to Garcia, looking at the screens.

"I'll just come back later." I said, but Emily stopped me.

"You need info about André Dom?" She asked and I smiled.

"You know me so well."

"So here's what I've got." Garcia said, typing at her keyboard so fast I thought the keys would fly away. "André Dom, twenty six years old, has worked at the bar for about a year now… Lives alone, no friends in the area, doesn't own any property… Oh, listen to this, he spent some time in jail for assaulting his girlfriend. Two years ago she spontaneously changed her mind so he got off."

"Two years is a long time for serials." Prentiss said. "Maybe he's taken more women we weren't aware of?"

"He wasn't a serial." I said. "It's very possible that somebody else drove him towards it, maybe the partner."

"How did they meet?" Prentiss asked. "During their time? Afterwards? Knew each other from beforehand?"

"He was cellmate to Michael Lebo for a while." Garcia informed us. "Lebo was in for sexual assault, and was released six weeks ago."

"Just before the murders started." Prentiss said before turning to look at me. "Think they'll listen to us now?"

* * *

><p>The case closed that very day. Apparently, Lebo was the one who kidnapped, raped and killed the victims, but Dom assisted him because he owed him for saving his life in prison. We tracked Lebo down to the abandoned warehouse he was staying and rescued Jessica Monroe. She wasn't hurt, only scared, and I was relieved at that.<p>

Dave and Hotch were mad at Prentiss and me, for going to Garcia behind their backs, and at Garcia, for letting us do it. Soon enough, though, they realized we only did it because they wouldn't listen, and they calmed down.

That evening, after we all finished paperwork and headed downstairs together, one of the receptionists called for me.

"Agent Chess!" She called. "You have a visitor."

I looked around, confused, before I noticed Daniel standing in the middle of the floor.

"I'll be right back." I told the team, starting to get nervous about all of them being there. I pushed it aside as I kissed Daniel.

"Hey, beautiful." He said. "How was your day?"

"The usual." I smiled. "A lot better now that you're here."

"Let's go?" He asked but I shook my head.

"Not yet." I told him. "First, you are going to meet my team."

Daniel looked at me, shocked. "You want me to meet your team?" He asked.

"Of course I do." I said softly. "Why'd you think I asked you to come pick me up today?"

I put my hand in his and we walked together towards where the entire BAU team stood and watched us.

"Daniel, these are my team members," I said, "Hotch, Dave, JJ, Derek, Emily, Penelope and Spencer, this is my boyfriend, Daniel."

"Nice to meet you." Daniel said. "I heard so much about you."

"Really?" Rossi asked with a smile. "Because we heard absolutely nothing about you."

I blushed before I was saved by an overenthusiastic Garcia.

"Speak for yourself!" She told Rossi. "Chessi told me so much – Except for the parts I wanted to know – Did you really know each other when she was in Harvard – how long has this been going on – I'm dying here!"

Daniel laughed as the questions came one after another, so fast he couldn't even speak. "I did know Diana when she enrolled at Harvard." He said when she stopped for breath. "We dated for a year during that time, and for almost two months this time around."

"I met him again when I took Darlin' to the garage a couple of months back." I said, still holding his hand. "He works there so he convinced me to give this another try and go on a date with him. and we just clicked together all over again."

"I hope you're being kind to her." Rossi said, faking casualty, and I stiffened a laugh.

"Have I mentioned Dave's my Godfather?" I asked. "A bit protective sometimes."

"We were just about to go to a bar," JJ said, "care to join us?"

I looked at Daniel. "Your call."

His face split apart with a smile. "Sure, why not?"


	12. Where the Lines Overlap

**A/N: Oh. My. God.**

**It's Wednesday. It's Wednesday and I'm uploading.**

**Wow.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.**

* * *

><p><strong>"When you find someone you want to spend forever with you,<br>you don't let them go,  
>whether forever turns out to be a day or a year or fifty years.<br>Don't let the fear of losing them keep you from loving them."  
>Nicole Williams, <strong>**_Crash_**

_Dean and Sam walked into a motel room, after driving a long, dark road._

_"Home, crappy home." Dean said, as he turned on the light. Both him and Sam stopped at the sight that was revealed to their eyes._

_"Winchester and Winchester." Said Uriel, one of the Angels in Castiel's garrison. He sat on one of the tables, while Cas stood not far behind him, silent._

_"Oh, come on!" Dean called out in exasperation._

_"You are needed." Uriel said._

_"Needed?" Dean asked. "We just got back from needed!"_

_"Now, you mind your tone with me." Uriel said. The look in his eyes and the tone he was using gave me goose bumps._

_"No, you mind your damn tone with us." Dean said._

_"We just got back from Pamela's funeral." Sam explained, and the anger exploded inside Dean._

_"Pamela," he repeated, "You know, psychic Pamela? You remember her." He turned to Castiel. "Cas, you remember her. You burned her eyes out. Remember that? Good times! Yeah," he went on when he saw Cas wasn't about to comment, "then she died saving one of your precious seals. So, maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces for five freaking minutes!"_

_"We raised you out of hell for our purposes." Uriel said, obviously losing his patience._

_"Yeah, and what were those again?" Dean asked. "What exactly do you want from me?"_

_"Start with gratitude."_

_"Dean," Cas tried, "we know this is difficult to understand."_

_"And we don't care." Uriel said, sending a dangerous glare at Cas. "Now, seven angels have been murdered. All of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight."_

_"Demons?" Dean asked and Uriel nodded almost undetectably. "How they doing it?"_

_"We don't know." Uriel replied._

_"I'm sorry, but what do you want us to do about it?" Sam asked, looking between the two of them. "I mean, a Demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?"_

_"We can handle the Demons, thank you very much." Uriel said._

_"Once we find whoever it is." Cas completed._

_"So, you need our help," Dean looked almost amused, "hunting a Demon?" _

_"Not quite." Castiel said. "We have Alastair."_

_"Great." Dean said. "He should be able to name your triggerman."_

_"But he won't talk. Alastair's will is very strong." Castiel shook his head. "We've arrived at an impasse."_

_"Yeah, well, he's like a black belt in torture." Dean said, obviously trying to insult them. "I mean, you guys are out of your league."_

_"That's why we've come to his student." Uriel said, and my heart skipped a beat._

_Please don't let it be what I think it is. Please._

_"You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got." Uriel completed._

_"Dean," Cas said, looking almost sorry, "you're our best hope."_

_"No." Dean said. "No way. You can't ask me to do this, Cas. Not this."_

_"Who said anything," Uriel said, smiling slightly, "about asking?"_

_The next moment he, Cas and Dean stood at the middle of an abandoned warehouse, a room next to where the Demon was currently held._

* * *

><p>I woke up with a start, tears on my face and cold sweat covering my body.<p>

This can't be happening. This just can't be happening. Dean… They… They can't ask this from him. They must know that, even by their standards, it's just too much to ask from him.

They may as well throw him back to Hell.

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I thought of Cas, and of how he said nothing to come to Dean's aid – how he said nothing to help – and it just didn't fit with the Angel I've gotten to know during the past four months since Dean was raised out of the pit. It didn't fit with the Angel I introduced to my boyfriend just before we headed to Boston for the case.

* * *

><p>I was pacing around the living room, ready to go out to Quantico any moment, but wanting to do what I put off for two weeks already. Silently, I looked up at Daniel for comfort and support.<p>

"You know," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood, "most girls are nervous about their boyfriend meeting their family and friends. Not their Guardian Angel."

"You've already met my friends, who are also my family, and we dropped by at Bobby's last week." I said shortly. "Cas is all we've got left. And I'm not most girls."

"Wouldn't expect any less of you, Chess." He said, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Well, delaying it any further will do no good." I said in an attempt to convince myself, before turning around. I prayed for Cas once or twice already, but never with someone in the room with me and the situation was weird at the very least. "Cas?" I said awkwardly. "Can you come here for a moment?"

Instantly, he appeared in front of me. "I heard your prayer." He said. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just... this is so weird." I mumbled, causing Castiel to raise a brow. "Cas, this is Daniel. My boyfriend."

"Pleasure to meet you." Daniel said as he reached out for a handshake.

"Shake his hand." I whispered to Cas, who obliged even if somewhat oddly.

"It is nice to meet you too." He said.

There was an awkward silence which made me think for a couple of moments that this was a mistake, before Daniel said he needed to head off to work and kissed me goodbye.

"Was it that bad?" He whispered in my ear and I blushed.

"Have a good day." Was my only reply before he headed outside and I turned back to Cas.

"I do not understand." He said. "Why did you want me here?"

"I wanted to know what do you think of him." I said. "I'm guessing that because you're an Angel, you can see people better than I can. What do you think?"

"He…" Cas hesitated for a moment. "He is a good man."

"Yes." I said. "But what do you think about him?"

"He is a good man." Castiel repeated.

"Cas –" I called out, agitated, but he put a finger on my mouth, causing me to stop.

"Diana." He said softly. "He is a good man." He repeated one last time, and disappeared with a slight flutter of wings.

* * *

><p>Thinking back at it, at the sad look on his face and the gentleness he always treated me in, I couldn't comprehend the scene I just saw.<p>

Uriel calling the shots, rather than Cas? Cas asking Dean to torture Alistair? He knew what Dean's time in Hell did to me! He knew that the hardest part was to watch Dean losing his humanity by torturing others!

I sat there, and thought that maybe he didn't care for me after all. It was all an act, it must've been.

My thoughts, however, were disturbed by a phone call from Hotch. He said only three words before he hung up, and I immediately jumped out of my bed, got dressed and ran outside.

"It happened again."

During the last couple of days, we were handling the case of the Boston Reaper. Our unsub killed 21 people ten years ago, before he made a deal with the lead investigator on the case.

"If you stop hunting me, I'll stop hunting them. For as long as we both shall live, 'till death do us part."

A contract. A mutual understanding between them, that lasted as long as it said. Until the investigator died. And the Reaper started killing again.

When I reached the scene, I was shocked by what we found. The Reaper changed his course of act entirely. Instead of luring couples who drove in side roads, he got on a bus in the middle of the city. Killed all six passengers, in addition to the driver. Then, he proceeded to mutilate them, using their blood to write seemingly random numbers on the windows.

Hotch seemed to be taking it all rather hard, as apparently the Reaper called him and offered him the same deal as he did to the last investigator. The difference was that Hotch refused.

So the Reaper killed seven more.

"Do you believe in pure good and evil?" I asked Rossi as we drove back to the police station.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Do you think people are born good or bad, or that events in their lives lead them to that path?" I said.

"I think that there are events in one's life that lead him in certain directions." He said. "But eventually, the decision is on their shoulders." I nodded in understanding and looked out the window. "Any particular reason you think about it right now?"

"I just… I thought about the time Dean spent in Hell." I said. Not the truth, but not a lie, too. "I told you that at a certain point, he agreed to Alistair's deal – to get off the rack if he'd put others on it."

"Diana…" Rossi sighed. "That was an impossible choice. No matter what he have chosen, things would have ended badly."

"But he chose to torture others." I said. "And he… he enjoyed it."

"You can't judge a man by his actions in an impossible situation, Chessi." Rossi said.

I was quiet for a couple of moments before I spoke again. "Do you think the Reaper might be a Demon?" I asked.

"I highly doubt that." He said. "Demons don't seek attention like the Reaper does. They won't make the 911 calls like the Reaper did on his first cases, and they won't offer the police any deals. They'd just kill."

"It's hard to believe sometimes that people can do such horrid things." I said. "It's so much simpler in hunting. You find the monster, you kill it, end of story. You don't have to start thinking about why they'd done it. It's just what they are."

"A world of black and white." Rossi said.

"And we live in the grey."

* * *

><p>We had just realized what the numbers meant. Each of them was a mark to one of the safe houses of George Foyet – the Reaper's only surviving victim. The Reaper was targeting him again, and we split in order to check each of them and make sure he was alright.<p>

I was teamed with Morgan and one of the local detectives, and we arrived at the house where Foyet stayed when Hotch and Rossi questioned him earlier.

"I'll take the back." The detective said, and we nodded and walked through the front door.

We looked through the bottom floor, and decided I should head upstairs. I was halfway through when I heard the sound of shuttering glass.

"Morgan!" I called, running down and seeing him out in the front yard, unconscious, while who I assumed to be the Reaper leaned over him.

"Wake up, Derek." He said. "It's time to die."

"Not on my watch!" I called and shot a bullet right to his chest.

The Reaper turned to me. I thought I could just see a smile through the mask he was wearing.

"I'm not that easy to kill." He said. He walked towards me and shifted his head sideways, letting the light shine on him and reveal the last thing I expected to see. Fangs.

I ran to the kitchen, trying to avoid the ridiculous amount of blood that was spluttered on the floor, and took the largest knife I could find.

"Are you trying to hide?" The Reaper laughed. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"I think I do, Bloodsucker." I said and he paused.

"A hunter?" He asked, almost amused. "Lucky me. I think I'm going to keep you." He said, and before I could move he was right on me, getting the knife out of my hand. "Well, hello, beautiful."

I tried to back off but his grip on my hand was too strong, and I yelped in pain. "Leave me alone, you bastard."

"I don't think so." He said, smiling. "I'm going to enjoy slowly draining you out. Real fun. You know what?" He asked. "I think I'll start now."

With one swift motion, he took off the mask, and I was left looking into the eyes of no other than George Foyet himself.

I was so shocked that for a moment, I couldn't even move. I forgot where I was or the danger I was in. And in that moment, he attacked.

I felt a stinging pain when his fangs cut into my skin and a sickening feeling when he drank. I tried fighting away, but he was by far stronger. He backed off and hit my head with his gun's barrel, and darkness overcome me.

* * *

><p><em>Dean was torturing Alistair. He seemed really into it. He's probably been doing it for hours already.<em>

_And it was killing me._

_"Just not getting deep enough." Alistair teased him. "Well, you lack the resources. Reality is just… I don't know. Too concrete up here. Oh, honestly, Dean," he added, seeing his words have the desired effect over my brother, "you have no idea how bad it really was and what you really did for us."_

_"Shut up." Dean said, pouring salt into something I didn't recognize._

_"The whole bloody thing, Dean." Alistair continued nonetheless. "The reason Lilith wanted you there in the first place."_

_"Okay," Dean said, "then I'll just make you shut up."_

_He stepped forward and poured the salt into Alistair's throat, causing him to scream, choke and cough blood._

_"Something caught in my throat." The Demon said. "I think it's my throat."_

_"Well, strap in." Dean said. "'Cause I'm just starting to have fun."_

_No. you can't be having fun, Dean, you can't. Because I need you. I need my brother._

_And I need him as human as he can get._

_"You know," Alistair said, ignoring Dean's words, "it was supposed to be your father."_

_My thoughts froze, just as Dean did._

_"He was supposed to bring it on. But in the end, it was you."_

_"Bring what on?" Dean asked._

_"Every night, the same offer, remember?"_

_Of course we remember. I know I will never forget, and surely Dean wouldn't, either._

_"Same as your father." Alistair said. "And finally you said, 'Sign me up.' Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch that was the first seal."_

_Dean walked towards him, and looked at him for a moment before amusement crossed his face. Demons lie. "You're lying."_

_"'And it is written,'" Alistair quoted, "'that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.'"_

_Dean looked at him for a moment, deciding he was probably telling the truth before backing away to the torturing tools._

_"We had to break the first seal before any others." Alistair explained. "Only way to get the dominoes to fall right. Topple the one at the front of the line."_

_Dean continued preparing his tools, not looking at the Demon behind him. _

_"When we win," Alistair's voice passed the smile in it, "when we bring on the Apocalypse and burn this earth down, we'll owe it all to you. Dean Winchester."_

_Dean was quiet, letting the thoughts run through his brain as Alistair talked._

_"Believe me, son. I wouldn't lie about this. It's kind of a religious sort of thing with me."_

_"No." Dean said. "I don't think you are lying. But even if the demons do win you won't be there to see it."_

_He turned around, only to see Alistair out of his chains and by far closer than what I would have liked._

_"You should talk to your plumber about the pipes." He said, before punching Dean in the face and sending him to the ground. "You've got a lot to learn, boy," he said, sending one blow after another, "so I'll see you back in class, bright and early, Monday morning. Maybe even this time I can get a family reunion. A small birdie whispered to me that you have a sister out there."_

_"Stay away from my sister." Dean said, coughing through the blood in his mouth._

_"Why?" Alistair asked. "I'm certain that by pressing the right buttons, killing the right people, she'd give herself willingly. You Winchesters are so predictable."_

_I was scared, terrified of this Demon, so much that if I were able to, I'd scream at the knife that Castiel plunged at Alistair's shoulder._

_"Oh, almost." The Demon said, looking how close the hit was to being deadly. "Looks like god is on my side today."_

_He let go of Dean and we both fell to the ground, and my world became black as Dean lost consciousness._

* * *

><p>I woke up at what seemed to be a basement. My hands and feet were tied, and my head was pounding from blood loss but the pain at the side of my neck no longer there. I tried to move but it sent pain to every inch of my body, so I stopped. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to listen to my surroundings.<p>

I could hear Foyet talking to someone whose voice I didn't recognize, but they were too far away for me to understand what they were saying. I hoped for his sake he wouldn't say or do anything to upset Foyet. I hoped he wasn't going to become Foyet's next meal.

I was startled out of my thoughts by a familiar voice, standing too nearby than what I thought was safe.

"You are conscious." The voice stated.

I opened my eyes and looked at the figure who stood in front of me.

"What are _you_ doing here?" I growled.

"You were in danger." Castiel replied. "You called for me so I came."

"I've been praying for you all day long." I told him. "It's good to know what I need for you to listen is to be in life danger. I'll remember that."

"I'm sorry." He said, ashamed.

"For what?" I asked. "For ignoring my calls or for what you put Dean through?"

"Both."

"Well, sorry isn't enough." I said. "You know how hard it is for me to watch Dean torture others. You must know about my dreams – You know everything about me – and you _know_ I lived it all with him."

"I never meant to do anything that would hurt you." Castiel said. "All I want is for your best behalf. I was just following orders."

"Screw you and your orders." I said. "Torture is never the solution, Cas. Never. Torture is what _they_ do – the Demons, the _bad guys_. We're supposed to be better than that."

"I must follow my orders." Cas repeated and I sighed.

"Than I sure hope someone will order you to get the hell away from me." I said. "I can't even look at you right now."

He disappeared with a flutter of wings and I listened carefully to the conversation that took place above me.

New people have arrived. I could only hope they were my team, but the voices were too muffled for me to understand. There was a _thud_, like something has fallen to the floor, and finally someone spoke loud enough for me to understand.

"Where's Chessi?" Morgan yelled. "Where is she, you son of a bitch?"

"I'm here!" I screamed. "Please, help me!"

The door opened wide and the light blinded me, but I could still comprehend the voice I was hearing.

"Chessi." Rossi sighed. "I'm so glad you're okay."

He neared me and carried me out, my hands automatically wrapping around his neck.

"Vamp." I muttered. "Foyet's a vamp. Please tell me he didn't change me, please, Dave."

Rossi stopped and took a small knife out of his pocket. He held it in his palm until the skin was cut through, and then neared his hand to my nose.

"No fangs." He muttered. "You're good."

"Thank god." I cried.

He carried me away and put me in the back of one of the busses.

"Are you hurt?" He asked.

"No." I said. "But my head hurts."

"It's okay." He said softly, fatherly. "We'll take care of it."

* * *

><p>Foyet escaped.<p>

We arrived back to Virginia. It was already three or four in the morning when JJ received the call.

He was found in his cell, vomiting blood, killed the guards who took him to the prison hospital and ran away.

Hotch sent us to our homes, and I walked into my apartment silently, knowing that Daniel was staying at his.

I threw my bag on the couch, and walked to the bedroom, but paused as I saw someone sitting on my bed. I pulled out my gun, ready to shoot if needed, and slowly entered the room.

"Cas?" I asked with surprise when I comprehended the figure in front of me, putting the gun back in its case. "What are you doing here?"

"I never intended to hurt you." He said quietly. "I will never do anything to hurt you if I can help it."

All of the anger that built inside me during the past day dissolved at the amount of emotion in his voice. Emotion he was trying very hard to conceal. I sat by his side on my bed and put his hand in mine. He seemed to stiffen at the feeling, as always when I touched him, but relaxed rather quickly.

"Uriel was a traitor." He said.

"I'm sorry." I said honestly. "I know it must be hard."

"It is." He mumbled. "It feels like I am angry and sad at the same time."

"You feel betrayed." I explained. "You have every right to."

"Is that how you felt when I asked Dean to torture Alistair?" He asked. "Did you feel this... betrayal?"

"I did." I admitted.

"I am sorry for ever making you feel like this." He mumbled, ashamed.

"Forgive and forgotten." I replied.

We sat for a couple of moments in silence before he spoke again.

"You asked me what I think about Daniel." He said. "He is a good man."

"You've said that already." I reminded him. "Repeatedly."

"You… You seek for my approval at the relationship?" He asked.

"Yes." I said.

"Why?"

"Because I care about you." I said simply. "And your opinion matters to me."

"I cannot approve of that relationship, Diana." He whispered.

"Did he do something?" I asked, confused.

"No." Cas said. "He did nothing wrong. He really is a good man, and being with him would make you happy."

"So what's the problem?"

He sat silently for a moment.

"Angels are not meant to feel." He finally said. "We are warriors of the Lord, created to do out Father's bidding without hesitation. We are not meant to have feelings, but sometimes, when we are chosen to guard someone of great power, the feelings leak through. I am not _meant_ to feel, Diana, but I do. I care for you, too. I want you to be happy. But I am also selfish, as Angels should never be." He looked at his feet, ashamed. "I do not want you to be happy if it is not with me."

I sat there, trying to understand the meaning of his words when he did the last thing I ever expected him to do. Leaning in, still holding my hand, he kissed me.

I pulled back with surprised and looked at him. Shame filled his features as he opened his mouth to apologize. The words died in his throat when I kissed him back, desperate for the comfort I needed so badly and knew he offered. My hands wrapped around his body and he only hesitated for a second before returning it, deepening the kiss as he experienced the unfamiliar feeling of my skin against his while the world disappeared around us.

Some time later, Castiel and I were lying on my bed. I knew I should probably regret what had just happened, but instead, I let myself enjoy the surprising warmth of the angel next to me. His hand drifted over my bare body, lingering a bit longer as it reached my tattoo.

"That is a very unusual place for an anti-possession tattoo." He commented.

"You know, Cas," I smiled though I knew he couldn't see me, "if you want to touch my ass all you gotta do is ask."

His hand darted backwards, as if he got burned, and I grabbed it and returned it to where it was just seconds ago, and kept it there.

"I do not feel comfortable, Diana." He mumbled.

"You had no problem touching it earlier." I said, still smiling.

He took his hand off. "I should probably go." He said.

"Yes, I know," I sighed, "you got an apocalypse to prevent. Would you stay until I fell asleep?"

"Of course." He said softly. "Anything for you."

* * *

><p>The next morning, I woke up at the loud sound of my door being thrown open. I darted to my feet, but relaxed when I saw Daniel standing in front of me.<p>

"Why didn't you call me?" He asked.

"What?" I asked, too tired to think properly.

"Yesterday." Daniel replied. "A vampire Unsub kidnapped you and then escaped and you didn't call me when you got back here."

"It was late." I said. "You were asleep."

"I'd woken up for you." He said.

"I didn't want to wake you up." I said. "What's the big deal?"

"I was so scared when I heard about it!" He called. "Between your job, and the upcoming Apocalypse… either of us could die every day."

"I know." I whispered.

"I love you." Daniel said, and I looked up at him.

"I love you –"

"No." He cut me off. "I mean it. I know we've only been dating for a couple of months, but we've dated for a year before. I let you go once, and I will not make that mistake again. I love you." He repeated. "I didn't get just how much until now. And whether it's going to be a day, a month, a year or a decade, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Diana Winchester," Daniel said, going down on his knee and holding my hand, "will you give me the honor of being my wife?"


	13. Stories

**"I'll be a story in your head. But that's okay.  
>We're all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?<br>Cause it was, you know. It was the best."  
>Steven Moffat, <strong>**_Doctor Who_**

Chuck Shurley was sitting next to his computer, struggling to get the words out. He wasn't writing for publisher anymore. He was writing simply to get the words out of his head. A terrible burden for a Prophet.

Currently, he was writing about Dean and Sam finding Jimmy Novak in the place of Castiel. It was awful to know the events really happened, happening, or will happen soon.

He was disturbed by a knock on his door.

Torn from his writing, he tried not to think about the last time he answered to the knock on his door (It involved two not-so-friendly brothers who wanted to know why he's writing books about their lives), but took comfort in the fact that he saw a lovely girl standing there.

"Hello," she said, "I'm from the newspaper 'Fanfic Today' and I would like to ask you a couple of questions about the 'Supernatural' book series. Do you mind me coming in?"

Without waiting for his permission, she walked inside and took in her surroundings.

"I don't really think an interview would be a wise -" He started, already regretting letting her in.

"Oh, nonsense." She cut him off with a fake laugh. "It will be wonderful! So... first question," She smiled a visibly fake smile. "How did you get the idea for the series?"

"Um..." Chuck looked unsettled. "It just sort of... popped in my mind, I guess."

_One hell of an understatement. _She thought, but carried on anyway.

"How was the writing process for you?" She questioned. "Was it difficult? Was it interesting?"

"I guess you could say I learned a lot about myself." He said. _Like being a Prophet._ "But all in all, it was pretty hard."

"Interesting." She said. "Now, I must admit to being a huge fan of the series so I was wondering, will the Winchester sister join the gang?"

"I have never mentioned a Winchester sister." Chuck said. He was starting to get suspicious of her, but she didn't care.

"Come on." She said. "When Henriksen speaks to the boys in 'Nightshifter', he questions them about 'other Winchesters out there'. Do you really expect us to believe that means nothing? And how about 'All Hell Breaks Loose', when Azazel mentions his plans involving a girl the brothers hadn't seen in a long time?"

"What newspaper did you say you were from?" He asked.

"I mean, it's obvious that they have a sister." She ignored him. "The only question is will she be reunited with them anytime soon? Maybe now that the Apocalypse is coming?"

"I never published that."

"Because you can't hold it back forever, can you?" She asked. "Diana will meet them soon, now that the Angels also have plans for her, won't she?"

"I never said that..." She raised a brow at him, causing him to rephrase. "I never said her name is Diana."

"But it is, isn't it? Because when Dean was in Hell, he didn't only scream for Sam. He screamed for her, as well."

Chuck stood up and stepped away from her. "How do you know that?" He asked, scared. "Who are you?"

"Oh, haven't I mentioned it? How rude of myself." She smiled, reaching out a hand for him to shake. "I believe you've met my brothers. Name's Diana Winchester, pleasure to meet you." She winked at him. "But you can call me Chessi."

* * *

><p>Chuck was standing in the kitchen of his house, opening and closing drawers in a frantic search for a drink. Occasionally, he'd send a worried glance my way, but it seemed like he was taking the situation better than he did when my brothers were here.<p>

I guess by now, he already seemed to understand what was going on.

I remember the shock I was in a couple of weeks ago, when Dean and Sam found out about the Supernatural book series. Of course, I'd known about the books – that was how Spencer found out the truth about me. No, I was shocked because they did something I never even _considered_ doing.

They found the author.

* * *

><p><em>"This is freaking insane." Dean said as he looked into a book. "How's this guy know all this stuff?"<em>

_"You got me." Sam said, reading further into it in the computer._

_"Everything is in here." Dean continued. "I mean everything. From the racist truck to me having sex. I'm full-frontal in here, dude. How come we haven't heard of them before?"_

_"They're pretty obscure." Sam said. "I mean almost zero circulation. Started in '05. The publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And the last one – 'No Rest for the Wicked', ends with you going to Hell."_

_"I reiterate," Dean said, "freaking insane."_

_"Check it out." Sam said, turning the computer towards him. "There's actually fans. Not many, but still."_

_"Did you read this?" Dean asked._

_"Yeah." Sam said._

_"Although for fans, they sure do complain a lot." Dean said. "Listen to this - Simpatico says 'the demon story line is trite, clichéd, and overall craptastic.' Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it."_

_"Yeah." Sam agreed. "Well, keep on reading, it gets better."_

_"There are 'Sam girls'," Dean read out, "and 'Dean girls' and... What's a 'slash fan'?"_

_"As in Sam-Slash-Dean." Sam explained. "Together."_

_"Like," Dean felt uncomfortable, "together, together?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"They _do_ know we're brothers, right?" He asked._

_"Doesn't seem to matter." Sam replied._

_"Oh, come on!" Dean called. "That's just sick."_

_"There's more." Sam said. "It's not just about us. I mean, it is, but it also has Diana in it."_

_What? I thought to myself. What did he just say and why didn't Spence tell me about it?_

_"It's not much," Sam continued, "only small parts where her story crashes with ours. She appeared in 'Devil's Trap' when Yellow-Eyes had dad, once again when we were at the hospital and dad called her. When we were at Bobby's the next day, apparently she hid under the sink."_

_"That's crazy." Dean mumbled again._

_"It's got the part where I called her not long after Dad died -"_

_"You never told me you called her." Dean said accusingly._

_"You never told me Henriksen mentioned her when we were at the bank." Sam countered. "Edlund wrote a couple of scenes when we ignored her calls before you went to Hell, and it also says that the night you went down, she spoke to one of those who work with her and said, quote, 'It doesn't seem fair. Why am I the only one who has to pick entirely between both her families?'"_

_There was silence for a moment or two before Dean spoke._

_"We got to find this Carver Edlund." He said._

_"That will not be so easy." Sam replied._

_"Why not?"_

_"No tax records, no known address, it's like Carver Edlund doesn't exist." Sam replied._

_Dean sighed. "Well, somebody's gotta know who he is."_

* * *

><p>Chuck finally poured himself a glassful of whiskey and sat in the chair in front of me. He looked at me again, downed the glass at once, paused for a moment and then went back to the kitchen for more.<p>

"I'm not going to disappear, you know." I told him.

"I know, I know." He replied. "I'm just… hoping."

I followed him to the kitchen and leaned against the counter. "You write books about my brothers." I said casually.

"Yeah, yeah." He said. "I've been through this already."

"I'm not in them." I added.

"No." He verified. "Mostly, no. You… didn't seem like a very... important character."

"You know how to make a girl feel good." I mumbled. "Azazel was after me." I reminded him. "Lilith _is_ after me. Alistair threatened my friends and family already, and I won't be surprised if Satan has a bunch of new ideas about me if he gets out of his box. I'm fair game." I said. "What I would like to know is just how much _you_ know."

"How's the wedding plans going?" Chuck asked.

"Wonderful." I replied toxically, for a reason I couldn't quite understand. "We're gonna have a summer wedding in July."

"And your relationship with Cas?" He questioned.

I laughed humorlessly. "You could've just said a lot." I muttered. "It's just sex. We'll stop once I'm married."

"You forget I know how you're feeling." Chuck said. "It's not just sex. For either of you. I'm guessing that's why you're here. He disappeared."

"He ran off while talking to me, saying that they were onto him, and that I needed to be careful." I admitted. "And then Heaven took him away."

"So you came to a house guarded by an Archangel." Chuck mused. "Not your finest idea."

"Oh, shut up." I told him. "I needed someone to talk to. Someone who knows everything."

"I don't know everything." He said. "I don't know how the story ends."

"But I don't need to explain everything to you so that will have to do for now." I said. Exhaustion flowed over me and I yawned as I saw how late it was. "I should better go to a motel. I'll be back tomorrow."

"You can stay here." He said. "I don't think a motel will do you well in the current situation."

I wanted to raise a brow at that last comment, but stopped myself and nodded instead. He may not want to tell me everything he knows, but maybe I could trick him into it if he thought I knew what he was talking about.

Slowly, I took my bag and followed him to the spare bedroom.

* * *

><p><em>Dean and Sam were led inside the empty warehouse by three demons who brought them to stand in front of Jimmy, Castiel's empty vessel, and his wife, who was possessed by a demon.<em>

_"Nice plan, Dean." Sam said sarcastically._

_"Got the knife?" The demon asked, and one of the goons handed her Ruby's demon blade. "You know what's funny?" She asked._

_"You wearing a soccer mom?" Dean asked._

_"I was actually bummed to get this detail." The demon said, ignoring my brother's comment. "Picking up an empty vessel? Sort of like a milk run." She looked between the two of them. "Now look who landed in my lap."_

_"Yeah, well you got us, okay?" Sam asked. "Let these people go."_

_"Oh, Sam." The demon sighed. "It's easy to act chivalrous when your wonder girl powers aren't working, huh?" What? What powers? "Now for the punch line. Everybody dies."_

_She took out her gun and pointed it at Dean, and then at Sam, before turning around and shooting at Jimmy. Even though I knew he was only a vessel, and not the Angel I learned to know and love, it still hurt to see him like that._

_She ordered one of her demons to kill Jimmy's daughter, Claire, and the demon neared the child with a crowbar. Just as it was about to hit her, a hand lifted and blocked it with the strength a ten year-old girl shouldn't have. Claire raised her hand to the demon's forehead, and killed him as I've only seen angels ever do._

_Dean and Sam immediately started fighting the demons that had their grip on them, but I was trying to pay more attention to Jimmy than to the battle._

_"Castiel." He said with awe._

_The Angel ignored him for the moment, going to help Dean before the duo turned to look at Sam who was… Was he drinking a demon's blood?_

_Blood dripped on his chin as he straightened up, and my heart skipped a beat when he exorcised the demon in Jimmy's wife, using his mind only._

_I guess she was referring to _those_ powers, then._

_Castiel, in the form of Claire, neared Jimmy and leaned next to him. "Of course we keep our promises." He told him, probably talking about a conversation they had had earlier. "Of course you have our gratitude." He looked at the mortal wound in Jimmy's stomach. "You served us well. Your work is done. It's time to go home now your real home. You'll rest forever in the fields of the lord. Rest now, Jimmy."_

_Jimmy looked at his daughter, struggling to get the words out and Castiel sighed. _

_"She's with me now." He said. "She's chosen. It's in her blood, as it was in yours."_

_"Please, Castiel." Jimmy somehow choked out. "I mean, just…" His voice was thick with tears and pain. "Just take me. Take me, please."_

_"I want to make sure you understand." Castiel said. "You won't die or age. If this last year was painful for you, picture a hundred a thousand more like it."_

_"Doesn't matter." Jimmy told him. "You take me. Just take me."_

_"As you wish." Castiel said, and the warehouse filled with the light of the angelic grace as he transferred into Jimmy's body._

_Claire fell on the floor and her mother rushed to her, but Castiel walked towards the exit, not sparing a glance at them._

_"Cas, hold up." Dean called. I knew he was itching to know what Cas wanted to tell him right before he disappeared. "What were you gonna tell me?"_

_"I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean." Castiel said coldly. "I serve heaven. I don't serve man." A cold look crossed his face. "And I certainly don't serve you Winchesters."_

_I certainly don't serve you Winchesters._

_I certainly don't serve you _Winchesters_._

_I certainly don't serve _you Winchesters_._

I certainly don't serve you Winchesters.

When I woke up, I was disoriented for a moment.

The room I was at didn't look like the bedroom at the flat I shared with Daniel, or like any motel or hotel I've ever stayed at. I stressed for a moment, before I remembered the events of the previous couple of days – finding out Castiel was missing, coming here to see Chuck and his offer that I'd stay to sleep at one of his spare rooms.

And now this dream. A vessel.

The mere thought made me sick, and I barely made it to the bathroom before all I've eaten yesterday found itself at the toilet.

I never even thought about it. I knew, of course, but to witness it the way I just did… Jimmy Novak was a person. He had a family, a wife and daughter. He asked for none of it. But, then again, which of us did?

I thought about the sacrifice he had made for his daughter. Living the life of a vessel, knowing what happens around you but not being able to do anything about it. I knew it must be terrible, but yet he chose this life to spare his daughter from the same fate.

I was glad he did, though. It would've been weird if Cas was a ten year old girl.

Thinking about it made me think about the nature of my relationship with Castiel, and I leaned over the toilet to puke again.

How much did Jimmy Novak see? How much did he know? How much did he… feel?

I definitely needed a drink.

I washed my face slowly and cleaned my mouth from the sour aftertaste it had before making my way downstairs. Despite the early hour, Chuck was already up and writing and I wondered how often he had a whole night's sleep.

"Good morning." He said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Good morning." I mumbled in response.

"Slept well?" He asked.

"Don't you know already?" I asked bitterly and he looked at me, surprised.

"I don't see everything that happens to you." He said. "Only the parts that are supposedly to be important to the story."

"You don't know about the dreams?" I asked, confused.

"What dreams?" He asked.

"The ones in which I am living what Dean is living."

Chuck looked genuinely surprised. "No."

"Well, I have them." I said. "It's nice sometimes. Helps me keep track of my brothers. Other times…" I trailed off, but Chuck seemed to know what I was thinking about.

"Hell." He said. "You were experiencing Hell." Realization crossed his face. "That's why you tried to kill yourself."

"So you know." I said, and couldn't help but notice how the bitterness was now back in my voice.

"I didn't write about it." He said. "I didn't tell anybody."

"You're good at that, aren't you?" I asked. "Not telling us stuff."

"It's not good to know so much about your future." He justifies himself.

"What about Castiel's vessel?" I asked. "Was it that bad for me to know about him, too?"

"You knew he was in a vessel all along." Chuck said.

"But that's not something you think about!" I said. "It's more like… something at the back of your mind. I didn't think there was a poor human being inside Cas when I... When we…" I sighed. "I can't even think about it now."

I turned around and grabbed my coat.

"Where are you going?" Chuck asked.

"Taking a walk." I said. "I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Be careful!" He called after me. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Yeah, whatever." I mumbled and left the house.

Looking at Darlin' which parked just outside the house, I sighed before turning the other way. _That's what people do, right?_ I thought to myself. _Take a walk to clear their mind._

I walked around the small town and tried to focus on everything other than what my mind wanted so desperately to focus on. At a certain point, I found myself in a small park, sitting at one of the benches and watching some kids play.

With a moment's decision, I called for Castiel, ignoring my senses when they told me that probably counted as doing something stupid. He appeared almost instantly.

"You prayed for me?" He asked, his voice cooler than I ever heard it.

"Care for a talk?" I asked.

Cas looked surprised, but sat next to me nonetheless, looking at the young children.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" I asked. "So naïve and pure. The world hadn't ruined them yet. But it will. I never had that. I had never been naïve. Never had a childhood. I'm assuming you didn't, either." Castiel said nothing so I went on. "I resented my father for it. Hated him, actually. You don't look like the type to do that."

"What do you want, Diana?" Cas asked.

"'_I certainly don't serve you Winchesters._'" I quoted. "You didn't mean Sam and Dean, did you? You meant Dean and me."

"Yes." Cas said after a long silence.

"Thought that much." I mumbled. "What happened when you were away?"

"The other angels helped me see where I was mistaken."

"Brainwashed you." I said. It was not a question, but not a statement, either. "Did they erase it all? Made you their own perfect little angel?"

"I was born to serve." Cas said.

"I know." I said. "But have you noticed that's what you say every time you do something terrible? Following orders. What kind of orders are those, Cas?"

"I do not have to listen to this." He said.

"And yet, here you are." I said. "You can go at any moment. But you stay. Why is that?" I looked at him for a moment. "You know what I think? I think that when the reprogrammed you to be their perfect puppet, they didn't take one thing into the equation."

"And what would that be?"

"Feelings." I said. "They didn't think you had feelings so strong."

"I do not have feelings!" He called, outraged.

"That's not what you used to say to me." I said. "You used to say 'I love you', 'I've missed you'. You used to worry about me."

"I still do." He said. "As your Guardian Angel. Nothing more."

"Why don't I believe that?" I asked sadly.

"You should." He said, looking at me straight in the eye.

I took the last straw I was gripping at. "Are you regretting those nights?" I asked him, and he looked away. "Cas, are you regretting it?"

"I do not know." He admitted quietly. "I should be regretting it."

"But are you?" I repeated. "Because I don't."

"You..." He looked up at me again. "You don't?"

"Should I?" I questioned.

He was silent, looking at me, then at the trees and back to the children.

I felt a sting of pain in my heart as I asked him the next question.

"Can I speak with him?"

"With Jimmy?" Castiel asked. I nodded silently. "I am not certain this is a good idea."

"Please, Cas." I begged. "You know I barely ask for anything. Can I please talk to him?"

Castiel didn't respond. He leaned back on the bench and closed his eyes. I sighed in disappointment just as he jumped upright.

"Where am I?" He asked in a tone slightly different from Castiel's usual voice.

"Jimmy?" I asked, surprised.

"I… Diana?" He asked.

"You're Jimmy." I said. "You really are Jimmy."

"I guess it might be a bit hard to tell me and your lover apart, seeing as he _wears_ me." He said poisonously.

"So you know." I mumbled, truly ashamed.

"Yes. I know." He said, before adding in a slightly softer tone, "I'm sorry. It's just… it's been a rough couple of days."

"Tell me about it." I murmured. "I… I'm sorry. That wasn't my place."

"It's fine, I guess." Jimmy said. "It must've been hard to realize the person you've been fucking for the past four months actually has a human in him, who sees, hears and feels everything he does."

The words cut like knives through my heart. "Everything?" I asked.

"Not everything." He admitted. "But enough."

"I'm sorry." I told him. "God, you don't know how sorry I am."

"Is that why you asked to see me?" He asked. "You wanted to say you're sorry? Hoping to ease your conscience? Yeah, you're not gonna get it from me."

"I'm still sorry." I said.

"I still don't care." He replied. "Just let me get back _there_. At least when Cas is in control, I don't need to live it all the time."

I nodded and stood up, walking away from Jimmy, who was no doubt Castiel again. I walked into Chuck's home and headed straight to the kitchen, pouring myself some whiskey.

"You shouldn't do that." Chuck's voice came from behind me, worried.

"I know." I said. "Addiction and all. Couldn't care less."

"That's not what I was –" He started, but paused mid-sentence. "Oh."

I paused, the glass of liquor at my lips but I wasn't drinking just yet.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's…" Chuck started. "I… Nothing."

"It's clearly not nothing." I said. "What do you know?"

"I'm not supposed to tell." He whispered. "Knowing too much and all of that."

"If it's something important, you should tell me." I said.

"I…" He sighed. "I can't. But you really don't want to drink that." He added, gesturing at the glass in my hand.

I put it down at the table and looked at him. "Chuck," I said calmly, "I have a gun. Now, I'd really rather not have to use it on you. What aren't you telling me?"

"You were nauseated this morning." He said.

"Yeah," I said, "I kinda noticed that."

"You looked at the children in the park and got nostalgic." He added. "You… you probably didn't notice it yet, but your period is late in about two weeks now. I don't think it will arrive any time soon." He finished lamely.

"Great." I sighed, falling into one of the chairs. "Just what I needed right now. The Apocalypse is coming, I'm trying to plan a wedding, my sort-of-boyfriend-slash-lover won't talk to me and on top of it all, I'm pregnant. Can this day get any worse?"

"Well," Chuck said, "Sam is having a terrible rehab."

If looks could kill, Chuck would have been long dead on his kitchen floor.

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:**** And season 4 is slowly coming to an end.**

**I'm planning to have two, maybe three more chapters to this season and first episode of season five, and then moving on to the whole of season five.**

**If you have any special episodes in season 5 you want (both series), tell me and I'll see if I can put Chessi in. So far, I plan to have the parts with Foyet at S4 finale and S5EP1, and "100", in addition to "The End", "Changing Channels", possibly something about "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester", "The Song Remains the Same" and some more, besides (of course) "Swan Song".**

**So review and tell me wat you think!**


	14. The Edge

**A/N:**** So I've been swamped with my studies lately as I've got a _huge_ test next week and I barely had any time to write... I finished this chapter Tuesday night but it also had to be beta'd and then I didn't have time again...**

**Long story short - Here you go.**

**Rather short chapter but I had to end it where it ended.**

**Witch By Midnight: To make things clear - Jimmy Novak is Castiel's vessel (see se4ep20 for more details about that). Daniel is Johnny, the guy that run the car garage at the beggining of the first chapter. He dealt with illegal stuff and later joined the witness protection program, ending up in Virginia. He dated Chessi for about a year when she was at Harvard, but broke it off with her when she told him about the supernatural world, saying she's crazy if she really believed that. He's now engaged to her.**

**As to who's baby is this... you'll just have to wait and see ~smiles devilishly~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.**

* * *

><p><strong>"But tonight I need you to save me,<br>I'm too close to breaking, I see the light.  
>I am standing on the edge of my life."<br>Tonight Alive, ****_The Edge_**

"How are you?" Daniel asked me.

I sighed into the phone speaker. "Had my better days." I muttered.

"I know, hon." He replied. "Are you sure it's a smart idea to stay there?"

"I won't get any work done anyway." I told him. "At least here I've got Chuck who gets what I'm going through. At least sort of gets."

"Do you want me to come be with you?"

"No!" I said, just the slightest bit too fast. "No. It'll only be a couple of days." I said, calmly this time. "Only until the storm passes."

"And if it doesn't?" Daniel questioned.

"Give me a week." I said. "Seven days. If things don't get better in seven days, I will come back home."

"Promise?" He asked.

"Promise." I said. "I gotta go now, I'll talk to you later."

"Love you."

I smiled even though he couldn't see. "Love you, too."

I hung up the phone and looked up, seeing Chuck standing in front of me and looking at me.

"Do you plan to keep that promise?" He asked.

"None of your business." I said.

"Will you tell him about the baby?"

"Probably." I said, not committing.

"Will you tell him soon?" He pushed.

"Probably." I said. "Possibly." Chuck raised his brow. "What do you care?" I asked.

"I don't." He replied, walking back to his computer. "But you should."

I sighed. The decision to stay at Chuck's house seemed like a good idea at first, and I knew it probably was, but he was so unbearable, I just wanted to take all of my things and go away.

Screw him for knowing me.

"I'm going." I called.

"Where to?" He asked.

"Don't you know?" I questioned.

There was silence for a moment. "The meeting is only two blocks away," he said, "you can go by foot."

"Thought you did." I muttered, before walking outside.

I arrived at the meeting and listened to the people talking. It calmed me down, but I was still stressed so I took my turn and got on the stand.

"Hello, my name is Diana and I'm an addict."

"Hello, Diana." The room replied and I remembered why I needed this meeting.

"I'm not from here," I said, "I'm visiting a… friend, but I felt like I needed a meeting. I had a really rouge week. My brother… my kid brother that I didn't talk to for over a decade was using. He was into some _bad_ crap and he's detoxing now. And I can't be there for him.

"Two nights ago, I almost relapsed." I admitted. "The drink was in my hand, it almost touched my lips. But then, something became made it clear to me, I can't afford myself to slip, but it also made me want a drink even more.

"I have… I _had_," I corrected myself darkly, "a lover. For the past couple of months, I cheated on my fiancé. And now," it was getting harder to get the words out, "I'm pregnant. And I don't know who the father is."

Tears started streaming down my face as the feelings I've pushed back during the past couple of days rose to the surface. "It's been a really shitty couple of days." I finished. "And I just really needed a meeting.

"Thank you for sharing." One of the consultants said, and the room echoed.

I walked back to my seat and sat down, burying my face in my hands. Talking about it helped, as always, but it also made me realize just how much trouble I was in. And that was _without_ mentioning the possible upcoming Apocalypse.

I only paid half attention for the rest of the meeting. When it was over, all I wanted was to run outside, but the consultant who was the first to speak when I finished talking stopped me.

"Can I have a moment, please?" He asked. "It won't be long." He added when he saw my hesitation.

"Fine." I said reluctantly, stepping aside with him.

"My name is George." He said. "I wanted to thank you again for sharing and ask you something about your brother."

"My brother?" I repeated.

"You said he's detoxing."" George said. "He's not in a rehab facility, is he?"

"He…" I hesitated for a moment. "No."

"It's very dangerous." George said.

"My detoxing was the same." I said. "Our uncle just locked me in a room until I was clean. Going to a facility can cause us trouble," I explained, "considering our… jobs."

"I understand it worked," George said, "but if he was using something as serious as you made it sound, you need to listen to what I've got to say."

I called Bobby the moment I was out of the meeting.

"How are you all doing?" I asked.

"Terrible." He replied.

"That bad, huh?"

"I'm dying here, Peanut." Bobby said. "It's even worse than your detoxing."

"It is?" I asked, curious. "How come? Oh, give me a break," I added when he seemed too shocked to reply, "it's not like I remember much from my rehab. I was in a pretty bad state."

"He screams out." Bobby explained. "Not like you did. Not cursing us. He screams in pain. Do you know what it's like, hearing somebody you care about scream out in pain, and knowing it must be done?"

"Damn." I mumbled. "It's just like he said."

"Just like who said?"

"I was at a meeting today." I replied. "Spoke to one of the consultants. By what it seems, detoxing on that crap, that's ten times worse than drugs."

"I figured this much out." Bobby mumbled and I sighed.

"No, you don't." I said. "On hard cases of drug rehab, when the addicts were in too deep with too strong crap, it can kill them. Now, demon blood is the strongest crap there is. And Sam is in way too deep."

"So what are you saying?" Bobby asked.

"I'm saying it may not all be in his head, Bobby." I said. "He may be really dying."

* * *

><p>"Cas!" I was screaming my lungs out in Chuck's back yard, hoping the angel would answer me. "Cas! <em>Cas!<em>"

"I am here."

I turned around, taking in his figure. It was odd, as the last time I saw him I was speaking to Jimmy, but at the same time it was also relaxing.

Sam may be using demon blood, Dean might've agreed to help the angels and I can be pregnant and nervous, but Castiel would always be the same. _Holy tax accountant_, as Dean called him the first time they met, and he couldn't have been more right.

"You prayed." He said.

"You helped." I whispered.

"I do not understand." He said.

"Dean." I explained. "You told Dean he needs to be as obedient to you as he was to our father. But Dean wasn't always that obedient. He had his doubts, just like Sam and me. And every now and then, when it came to doing what is right and going against the orders John gave him, he picked what is right. So thank you."

"I was told to free Sam." He whispered. "I was given a direct order to."

"And those orders will always ruin us and what we have." I sighed darkly. "But for now, we have it."

I walked at him and hugged him, letting his hands wrap around me and envelope me, shielding me from everything that happens and letting me not think about all the troubles, even just for a moment.

But the moment passed. My thoughts were swirling again. And the one thing I've forgotten in my haste was that when he's close, Castiel can hear my thoughts.

He pushed me away and looked at me, confused and afraid.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You are pregnant." He said.

It wasn't a question, and I felt my heart drop in fear.

"Daniel's." I replied dryly.

"Diana." He said. "The baby is-"

"It's Daniel's baby." I cut him off, not for a moment believing what I am saying. "I know what you think, but it's Daniel's."

"The dates match." He said.

"Daniel's." I insisted.

_It is Daniel's child. _I told myself, not for the first time during the last couple of days. _It must be, because I know what being a Nephilim is. And I couldn't bare it to give birth to a child who will be hunted from the day they are born._

"But -"

"Castiel." I said harshly. "It's Daniel's baby, because it must be. We can never be together, we can never have a life or kids. And as much as I love you, I can never give up on that."

The look on Castiel's face hardened. "So you are choosing him?" He asked.

"It's not like that, Cas. The choice is not him or you, it's much deeper than that. The supernatural world in opposed to having a normal life, I just..." I sighed. "I made the choice years ago when I left John, Sam and Dean for Harvard."

"No." He said. "Your choice is very clear, Diana, don't try to cover it. I understand. I... I should have known better than to think what we had was real."

"Cas..."

"Goodbye, Diana Winchester." There was the slightest flutter of wings and he was gone.

"Cas!" I called. "Cas! Castiel, please, answer me! Cas!" I sighed. "I'm sorry, Cas, I truly am. I just... I'm sorry."

* * *

><p><em>Just like Castiel said, he let Sam go. Sam ran off and Dean followed him, confronted him and they fought. And so I found myself in my dream sitting in Bobby's living room, as the called for Dean but the younger hunter ignored him.<em>

_"Dean?" He asked. "Dean. You listen to a word I said?"_

_"Yeah, I heard you." Dean said. "I'm not calling him."_

_"Don't make me get my gun, boy."_

_Bobby always did have his own way of getting us to cooperate, I thought to myself._

_"We are damn near kick-off for Armageddon." Dean said. "Don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?"_

_"I know you're pissed." Bobby said. "And I'm not making apologies for what he's done, but he's your –"_

_"Blood?" Dean asked. "He's my _blood_, is that what you're gonna say?"_

_"He's your brother," Bobby said, "and he's drowning."_

_"Bobby, I tried to help him." Dean said. "I did. Look what happened."_

_"So try again." Bobby replied._

_"It's too late." Dean shook his head._

_"There's no such thing." Bobby told him._

_"No!" Dean called out in frustration. "Damn it! No. We've got to face the facts Sam never wanted, part of this family."_

_I knew it was just the stress talking, and all I wanted to do was hold Dean until he relaxed, but I couldn't. I wasn't really there. I was crashing on the sofa at Chuck's house, miles away._

_"He hated this life, growing up." Dean said. "Ran away to, Stanford first chance he got. And now it's like deja-vu, all over again. Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him." He said poisonously. "He can do what he wants."_

_"You don't mean that." Bobby said._

_"Yes I do, Bobby." Dean said. "Sam's gone. He's gone. I'm not even sure if he's still my brother anymore. If he ever was."_

_There was silence for a couple of moments as Dean buried his head in his hands and Bobby leaned on the table before the older hunter threw all of his things on the floor._

_"You stupid, _stupid_ son of a bitch!" He called out, finally losing it. "Well, boohoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, _princess_! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good? Bake you an apple pie, maybe? They're _supposed_ to make you miserable! That's why they're _family_!"_

_"I told him, 'you walk out that door, don't come back'." Dean said, hurt finally showing up on the surface. "And he walked out anyway. That was his choice!"_

_"You sound like a whiny brat." Bobby said. "No." He shook his head in disbelief. "You sound like your dad. Well, let me tell you something. Your dad was a coward."_

_"My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?" Dean asked._

_"He'd rather push Sam away than reach out for him, just like he did with Diana!" Bobby said. "Just like _you_ did with Diana, before you went to Hell."_

_"You told me a couple of months ago not to come after her." Dean accused._

_"Well, that was before I knew Heaven had plans for her!" Bobby called._

_Dean paled. "They what?"_

_"An ex-hunter who works with her told me." Bobby said. "Apparently, Cas has been involved in her life as well."_

_"What do they want with her?" Dean asked, worried._

_"I don't know." Bobby sighed. "But it ain't good. She's gonna need you. _And_ Sam." Dean hesitated so Bobby continued. "You are a better man than your daddy ever was." He told my brother. "So you do both of us a favor. Don't be him."_

_Dean shook his head again, and turned to look out that window. He turned back, ready to say something to Bobby, but instead found himself in a big, empty room. He looked around, amazed, but jumped in surprise as a voice spoke from behind him._

_"Hello, Dean." Castiel said. "It's almost time."_

* * *

><p>I woke up with a start and a scream at the sofa in Chuck's living room, causing the prophet to look away from the screen where he was writing and at me.<p>

"Where are you on the plot?" He asked.

"Angels are sons of bitches who never wanted to stop the Apocalypse." I said bitterly.

"And Cas?" He questioned.

"Uncooperative as ever." I mumbled. "Please tell me he changes his mind."

"I can't tell you anything." He said.

"I'm not gonna do anything about it." I said. "I won't even try and leave the house. Just tell me Cas is thinking clearly at the end."

"He is." Chuck said after a short hesitation. "Now why won't you go take a shower?"

"Okay." I sighed getting up and walking upstairs. "Oh, and Chuck?"

"Hmm?"

"You do know that if you write about me I'll kill you, right?"

Chuck paled slightly, but somehow still managed to maintain his straight face. "Sure." I heard him say, followed by the unmistakable sound of the 'backspace' key.

I took a quick shower and got back downstairs, just in time to hear the end of a conversation.

"St. Mary's?" The familiar voice of my brother asked. "What is it, a convent?"

"Yeah, but you guys aren't supposed to be there." Chuck said. "You're not in this story."

"Yeah, well, we're making it up as we go." Castiel said just as the house started shaking.

"Aw, man!" Chuck called out. "Not again!"

"It's the Archangel!" I heard Castiel call. "I'll hold him off! I'll hold them all off! Just stop, Sam!"

I ran into the room the moment Cas put his hand on Dean's forehead, sending him away.

"Cas!" I called. "What are you doing?"

"What I should've done long ago!" He called back. "Stop following orders!"

"They'll kill you!" I screamed.

He looked at me for half a second, his eyes darting to my stomach as he said, "If there's anything worth dying for, this is it." He looked up at the ceiling and raised his blade, ready to fight.

And he exploded to pieces.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry. Sorry. I didn't do it, it was in the show. So, okay, maybe having her there when it happened was planned since it all started but sorry.<strong>

**Reviews are good for your Karma, by the way ;)**


	15. Apocalypse

**A/N:**** Another short chapter... But hey, at least it's on time!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.**

* * *

><p><strong>So we cross that line,<br>Into the crypt, total eclipse  
>Suffer unto my apocalypse<br>Metallica, ****_My Apocalypse_**

For a moment, it seemed as if time stood still. Castiel's vessel was exploding in slow motion and I felt the splatter on my face. The shakes that indicated the presence of an archangel were gone, and I was left standing there, gaping at the spot where the possible father of my child stood just seconds ago, before he dissolved in the sub-atomic level.

Then, the screaming started. At first, I tried to search for its origin, before I realized it was coming from my mouth. I screamed and screamed, afraid to continue but at the same time unable to stop. My voice became hoarse and disappeared into nothingness but I just kept screaming, choking on it.

It felt like hours had passed before I was able to conjure words again.

"No!" I screamed out. "No! Cas! _No!_"

I stumbled forward, only resulting in falling on the floor of Chuck's kitchen. My hands touched something that felt like it didn't belong to the floor, and it took me a moment to realize it was probably what is left of Castiel.

The realization broke me down completely.

A strangled cry left my throat – less of a scream and more a yelp of grief as it hit me with all its power – before it turned into the sort of weeping that consumed your entire being. When all that was left, was sadness.

I felt a warm hand on my back, and heard Chuck's soothing voice, before unconsciousness enveloped me.

* * *

><p><em>I was Dean, banging on a door in an abandoned house, calling for Sam. I was Dean, breaking the door open and killing Ruby. I was Dean, watching with Sam as the door to Satan's cage opened. My brothers tried to run outside of the room, but the door closed – they were stuck inside, with Lucifer on his way.<em>

_No! I screamed inside my head, and suddenly I found Sam and myself on an airplane._

_"What the hell?" Dean asked._

_"I don't know." Sam replied._

_"Folks, quick word from the flight deck." I heard the pilot saying through the PA system. "We're just passing over Ilchester, then Ellicott City, on our initial descent into Baltimore Ilchester."_

_"Weren't we just there?" Dean mumbled in confusion._

_"So if you'd like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time to - Holy crap!"_

_ The pilot called out in panic as white light came from all of the windows and the plane seemed to be crashing. People screamed and kids cried as Dean looked out of the window and through the light, holding on to Sam for dear life._

* * *

><p><em>Dean and Sam walked in the ruins of Chuck's kitchen, looking around in fear and confusion. They slowly moved to the living room, where Chuck arrived, launching a lamb on Sam's head.<em>

_"Geez!" Sam called out, backing away. "Ow!"_

_"Sam." Chuck said, surprised._

_"Yeah!" Sam replied._

_"Hey, Chuck." Dean casually said._

_"So… you're okay?" Chuck asked._

_"Well, my head hurts." Sam ranted._

_"No, I mean…" Chuck looked confused. "I mean, my… my last vision. You went, like, full on Vader. Your body temperature was 150 degrees, your heart rate was 200 beats per minute. Your eyes were black."_

_"Your eyes went black?" Dean questioned._

_"I didn't know." Sam replied._

_Dean turned to look at Chuck again. "Where's Cas?" He asked._

_"He's dead." Chuck said, and my heart broke all over again. "Or gone. The archangel smote the crap out of him. I'm sorry."_

_"You're sure?" Dean asked. "I mean, maybe he just vanished into the light or something."_

_"Oh, no." Chuck shook his head. "He, like, exploded. Like a water balloon of chunky soup."_

_Sam nodded. "You got a…" He said, pointing at Chuck's hair where the prophet took out something._

_"Is that a molar?" He cried in disgust. "Do I have a molar in my hair? This has been a really stressful day."_

_"Cas, you stupid bastard." Dean mumbled._

_"Stupid?" Sam questioned. "He was trying to help us."_

_"Yeah, exactly."_

_"So, what now?" Sam asked._

_"I don't know." Dean sighed._

_"Oh, crap." Chuck said._

_"What?"_

_"I can feel them."_

_"Thought we'd find you here." A voice said, and my brothers turned to see Zachariah, Castiel's superior, looking at them._

_Used to be Castiel's superior._

_"Playtime's over, Dean." The angel said. "Time to come with us."_

_"You just keep your distance, ass-hat." Dean growled._

_"You're upset." Zachariah said, all too calm.  
>"Yeah" My brother said. "A little. You sons of bitches jump-started judgment day!"<em>

_"Maybe we let it happen." Zachariah said. "We didn't start anything. Right, Sammy?" He asked, winking at him before turning back to Dean. "You had a chance to stop your brother, and you couldn't. So let's not quibble over who started what. Let's just say it was all our fault and move on. 'Cause like it or not it's the apocalypse now. And we're back on the same team again."_

_"Is that so?" Dean asked._

_"You want to kill the devil." Zachariah explained. "We want you to kill the devil. It's synergy."_

_"And I'm just supposed to trust you?" Dean asked. "Cram it with walnuts, ugly."_

_"This isn't a game, son." Zachariah said. "Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast. Before he finds his vessel."_

_"His vessel?" Sam asked. "Lucifer needs a meat suit?"_

_"He _is_ an angel." Zachariah replied. "That's the rules. And when he touches down, we're talking four horsemen, red oceans, and fiery skies. The greatest hits. You can stop him, Dean. But you need our help." He finished, just as the door burst open._

_"Chuck, are you here?" A familiar voice called._

_"We came as soon as we've got your message." Another said and I panicked, because they didn't belong here. Not in my dreams, not with Dean and Sam._

_"Hello, Spencer." Zachariah smiled at them. "_Daniel._ Pleasure seeing you here, all the pieces of the puzzle coming neatly to place."_

_"Um…" Spencer said worryingly. "Who are you?"_

_"Zachariah." Chuck provided before looking at the wall next to the stairs._

_Dean's gaze followed, finding a human-shaped clean area between all of the Cas particles._

_"Was there somebody here with you?" Sam asked. "Someone else was here?"_

_"Where is she?" Daniel asked, distressed._

_"She's safe." Chuck promised._

_"Sleeping upstairs, if I'm not mistaken." Zachariah added. "I must admit, I am thrilled to see the both of you here." He told my best friend and fiancé. "After all, she did a quite thorough job at hiding you. I spent _ages_ looking for you."_

_"Well, tough luck." Dean said, pressing his hand against a symbol he painted while the rest were talking. The angels were banished away and for a moment, there was silence._

_"Learnt that from my friend Cas, you son of a bitch." Dean mumbled._

_Another fresh wave of pain and grief crossed my consciousness at the reminder of Castiel being dead, but it was pushed aside when Dean spoke again._

_"Need any help?" He asked Spencer and Daniel._

_"No, thanks." Daniel said quickly. "I think she'll need some peace and rest right now."_

_"She's probably shaken." Spencer added. "I don't think new faces will do her good. You should probably leave."_

_"Did she know Cas?" Sam asked._

_"She's supposed to be waking up any moment now." Chuck said, cutting out any other question that can be asked. "Dean, Sam, I suppose you will talk to me later." He sighed. "Daniel and Spencer, she's upstairs."_

_My brothers walked towards the door and my friends walked towards the stairs when I felt the feeling of starting to wake up. Just before the door closed behind them, Dean and Sam heard one more line of the conversation inside the house._

_"How bad is she, Chuck?" Spencer asked, worried._

_Chuck sighed darkly. "Worst she's ever been."_

* * *

><p>I woke up and fell asleep repeatedly over the course of the next few hours. Things happened to Dean and Sam, but I was unable to comprehend anything more.<p>

Spencer and Daniel took me home – Spencer driving Daniel's car with me while my fiancé took Darlin'. When they carried me home and put me to bed, I couldn't care less. The only thing on my mind was grief and sorrow, and my mind replayed the picture of Cas dying in loops.

It was like a mantra to me. _Castiel. Castiel. Castiel._ So when I opened my eyes from yet another dream, this time of Bobby stabbing himself to stop a demon that possessed him, I wasn't all that surprised to see him standing in front of me.

Yet another illusion of my brain.

I looked at him, waiting for him to explode again, to disappear into nothingness, but after a couple of minutes had passed and nothing happened other than the two of us staring at each other, I straightened up.

"Cas?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"Diana." He said, and I knew it was him because nobody else said my name the way he did.

"You're alive." I somehow managed to say. "How?"

"The same way Dean and Sam ended up on that plane." He replied.

"And what was that?"

"You will learn soon enough." Was his only answer.

I looked at him for a couple more seconds before falling back on my bed.

"You're a hallucination." I mumbled.

"Why would you think that?" He asked.

"Because Castiel is dead." I croaked. "I saw it happen. I… I felt it. I was _covered_ in it. You're dead."

"And now I am not." He said. "Stranger things have happened."

"I don't want this." I told him. "I don't want you. I don't want to love you again only to lose you all over again."

"You will not." He promised. "Not this time."

"I don't care." I mumbled into my pillow. "Go away."

"On one condition." Cas said. "You need to stop this self-pity, get out of your bed and tell Daniel, Spencer and David what happened."

"Why?"

"Because they care about you." He replied. "And they worry. They have not left the house since you returned. They deserve that much."

"If I do it," I started, "will you go away?"

"If…" He hesitated. "If that is what you wish."

"Fine." I said. "Go away, then."

"There's just one more thing I should do." He said. He walked to my bed and leaned in, placing a hand above my heart. The pain that followed was so real I knew it swept away every doubt I had about this being an illusion. Illusions don't hurt that much.

"It should keep every angel away from tracing you." He told me. "From Zachariah to Lucifer. You'll be safe."

"And what about my friends?" I asked. "My family?"

"I'll protect them, too." Castiel said. "To the best of my ability."

Then, he was gone with a flutter of wings.

I pushed myself out of the bed and down to the living room, where true to Cas' word, Daniel was waiting with Rossi and Reid. The moment he saw me, my godfather rushed to my side and hugged me.

"We were so worried." He said. "We thought…"

"What happened?" My best friend asked.

"Sam killed Lilith and broke the final seal." I said. "Lucifer is free. Angels want to kill Sam and demons want to kill Dean. Cas exploded to pieces and then came back. Bobby might die, and even if not, he will probably never walk again."

"How are you?" Daniel asked.

"How do you think I am?" I asked. "I'm a wreck. And as if all of that is not enough, there's the icing on top."

"What is it?"

"I'm going to need a new fitting to my wedding dress." I laughed humorlessly. "I'm pregnant."

"You're…" Rossi was shocked. "What… how…"

"Having a prophet friend seems to be helpful." I said bitterly. "I'm… I'm about a month in."

Daniel stepped forward and pulled me to a hug. "Everything will be alright." He said. "We… We have each other. And a baby on the way. We're going to make things work."

He pulled me to a kiss and I sank into it, knowing that telling them was the right choice.

He was right. He really was. We have each other, and everything will be alright.

And the baby is most definitely _his_.

* * *

><p>"Garcia, can you do me a favor?" I asked the technical analyst a couple of days later.<p>

"Sure," she said, "what do you need?"

"Chuck said that Lucifer is going to pick a temporary vessel until he will find his true one." I said. "And between his hints and my hunches, it's going to be someone I know."

"Okay so the search goes to…"

"Everyone who went to Harvard at the same years I did and everyone we worked with." I said, causing her to look at me oddly.

"You do know how long that list is, do you?" She questioned. "It sums to thousands."

"Narrow it down by people who are more vulnerable." I guided. "Recently lost their jobs, death of someone in the family, that sort of things."

"We're still down to a couple of dozens." She muttered.

"Okay," I said thoughtfully, "how about people I worked closely with?"

"I think I can narrow it down to five." She told me. "Look at the list. Everything you think might be relevant?"

"Yeah." I said. "What about this one?"

"Lieutenant Nick Evans." Garcia said. "We worked with him when an Unsub targeted members of Phoenix PD. Two months ago, a man broke into his house… oh, no. Murdered his wife and child in their beds. He came home from a night shift to find them dead."

"What happened then?" I asked.

"He quit his job, spent most of his time drunk and at home." Garcia read from the files. "Two days ago, one of his fellow officers came by to find his house empty. Reported missing."

"That's him." I said, rubbing my face. "He's the vessel. Lucifer is gonna use him for as long as he could before tossing him away. There's no way he's gonna make it."

"That's terrible." Garcia said.

"This is war." I told her. "You better start getting used to it, because this might be what the bad guys do, but the good guys aren't all that better. They need a vessel for Michael."

"Should we look for him, too?" She asked.

"No need for that." I said. "We already know who that is."

"Who?"

"Dean." I said. "They tried to convince him to say yes already. Threatened to kill Sam, to kill Bobby, promised him peace and our parents. Promised him he would see me again."

"Tried?" Garcia repeated.

"Dean won't say yes." I said. "Not in a million years. There will be too many victims in that war – he won't allow himself."

"We better hope that the devil's vessel won't say yes, either." Garcia said. "Because I know that angels are dicks and all, but I don't think demons will be that much better."

* * *

><p>"Gabriel."<p>

The single word left my mouth as I saw the angel sitting in my living room, head in his hands as the despair he felt radiated from him.

"The friggin apocalypse." He said. "I've been trying so hard to stay off the radar, to hide, to keep myself _alive_. Then, your stupid, good-for-nothing brothers go and start the goddamned _apocalypse_."

"To their credit," I said, "they were trying to stop it."

"And the angels." He continued. "Not only letting it happen but _embracing_ it. They honestly think it's a good thing, the fools."

"Not all of them." I said thoughtfully.

"I've noticed." He muttered. "The thing with you and Cas."

"There is _nothing_ with me and Cas." I said harshly.

"Really?" He questioned. "I guess you bringing him back to life is a part of _'nothing'_?"

"I…" I looked at him, surprised. "_I _did that?"

"The Child of Creation." He said, almost mockingly. "Apocalypse is where you thrive."

"What _is_ this thing about the Child of Creation?" I questioned. "The angels are calling me that, the demons are calling me that – and neither side had yet decided if they wanted me dead or on their side."

"The answer is both." Gabriel muttered.

"What?"

"They want you on their side." He said. "But they're probably more than willing to kill you if you chose the other side. Not Michael or Lucifer, though." He added. "They're the only ones that seem to understand that decisions can be changed."

"But what does that even mean?" I asked him. "Being the Child of Creation, what does it _mean_?"

"It means you have great powers." Gabriel told me. "Powers strong enough to bring angels back to existence or, I don't know, put people on a plane to keep them safe."

"That was me?" I asked.

"Yup." He said. "It's mostly emotional now. Those kinds of things are hard to control."

"Can you teach me?"

Now it was his turn to look surprised. "What?" He exclaimed.

"Can you teach me to control my powers?" I repeated.

"Why?" Gabriel asked.

"Because we're dealing with the apocalypse here." I said.

"You can't stop the apocalypse." Gabriel warned.

"I know." I said. "It's already set in motion. But I'm sure as hell gonna make sure I can protect the people I care about. And I could, if I could learn how to use my powers."

"What's in it for me?" He asked.

"You could do it because you know it's the right thing to do." I said. "Because we've gotten to know each other, because I'm the closest thing you had to a friend in centuries. Or," I added, "you can do it because I still owe you one. And if I can use my powers, you'll have a big favor when you'll need it."

He looked at me for a moment before answering. "Fine." He said. "But anything that so much as _smells_ like Michael or Lucifer, and I'm outta here."

"Deal." I smiled. "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow." He said. "I'll pick you up from your place at 3pm. Make sure you're alone and don't be late."

"Wouldn't dream about it." I replied. "And Gabe?"

He turned to look at me. "What?"

"You know that if you ever just need someone to talk to, I'm here, right?"

"Sure thing, hon." He said with a smile before he tapped his fingers and disappeared.

* * *

><p><strong>So... What did you think? Review!<strong>


	16. (Un)Safe

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Criminal Minds.**

* * *

><p><strong>Sometimes there are no words or clever quotes<br>to neatly sum up what's happened that day.  
>Sometimes, the day just... ends.<strong>

**Criminal Minds**

Days went on. Weeks passed by. I enveloped myself with my work and wedding plans, trying to ignore what I saw every night in my dreams, trying to ignore the war that was going on outside.

The first sign was, surprisingly, War. As in, the horseman War.

_When He broke the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, "Come." And another, a red horse, went out; and to him who sat on it, it was granted to take peace from the earth, and that men would slay one another; and a great sword was given to him._

War took over a small town; River Pass, Colorado. He made the citizens that were there – and a couple of hunters that passed by – divide into two groups, each believing the other side were Demons.

There was slaughter.

Eventually, Dean and Sam arrived, taking War's ring from him and stopping the fight, but I knew it was only the beginning. If one horseman arrived, the rest will follow – Famine, Pestilence and Death. And it can only go downhill.

I practiced nearly three hours every day with Gabriel. He would take me from wherever I was at 3pm, bring me to one of his safe houses and teach me all he could. It was a slow, hard work, and at first, I was frustrated more often than not, but I managed to put up with everything he threw on me.

He said I was a natural at it.

Then, he'd bring me back. Usually, I was only a couple of minutes late, but occasionally he'd miss. One time, I was really gone for three hours. Hotch nearly killed me, and I nearly killed Gabe. After that, his accuracy almost magically improved.

At the moment, we were practicing summoning and cresting objects with your mind. It was hopeless, it was a skill I didn't think I could ever master, but Gabriel was intent on making me do it.

"Just focus." He said. "Concentrate on what you want to create, but not too much. Think about making it, but still let your instincts lead you."

"How am I supposed to do that?" I exclaimed. "I either let my instincts work or I focus on it – it can't work both ways."

"Yes, it can." He insisted. "Just… think of an apple. Focus on its texture, its color, its feel in your hand, but don't try too hard. Let your powers do the rest."

"This is never gonna work." I ranted.

"You already have the ability." He continued as if I never said a word. "You just need to channel it correctly. And drop the attitude." He added. "It's never going to work if you don't think it would."

_Okay._ I told myself, closing my eyes and concentrating. _Apple. A green apple. It's… green and hard, but not too hard, and not too soft, and it's not that heavy. It's the size of my palm, maybe slightly bigger. What else is there about an apple?_

"Open your eyes." Gabriel said, the smile clear in his voice.

I opened them to see a perfect, green apple in my hand. Smiling, I took a bite before spitting it out.

"No." I said. "Not good, definitely not good. Bad, bad apple."

"Still a step forward." Gabriel laughed. "Now let's try to create an _edible_ apple, okay?"

By the time the three hours were over, I managed to create edibles apple, banana and pineapple, and a knife to use when we ate them. I was exhausted as only the lessons with Gabriel ever left me, and still had to meet with Garcia – my maid of honor – for wedding plans.

"So today we're going to plan seating arrangements!" She said cheerfully, obviously trying to cover up for my sadness every time we planned something that had to do with the guests at the wedding.

I couldn't invite my brothers, as they were still wanted by the FBI, presumed dead and I wasn't speaking with them, Bobby was reluctant about coming because he was depressed with being in a wheelchair as a result of a demon attack and Ellen and Jo didn't answer any of my calls so far.

Overall, the list of my guests was pretty much BAU members and their plus ones, if existed, and Daniel's wasn't much longer. I kept telling myself I wanted a small wedding, hoping I would believe it eventually. But even girls who grew up hunting want a fancy wedding.

"We have three tables," Garcia said, "so I was thinking one for us, one for Daniel's friends, and the rest would sit at the third."

"The rest?" I asked.

"You, Daniel, Bobby, Ellen, Jo and three more at his pick." Garcia counted.

"I don't even know if Bobby, Ellen and Jo will be there." I sighed.

"It's your wedding day." Garcia said. "They would be there even if I had to drive and bring them myself."

"It's going to be terrible." I sighed.

"I will hear no such thing from you." She told me harshly. "It's your wedding day and it's going to be perfect."

"No, it's not." I mumbled. "There's an apocalypse going on outside. They might not be alive for you to bring them yourself."

"Positive thinking!" Garcia called. "Remember our rule?"

"No mentioning the apocalypse when we're making wedding plans." I chanted.

"And what were you just doing?"

"Mentioning the apocalypse." I said. Honestly, the whole situation made me feel like a little kid caught doing something wrong. "Who's bringing plus one?"

"I'm bringing Kevin, JJ's bringing Will, Derek is bringing… someone and I'm pretty sure that's it." Garcia shrugged. "Rossi, Hotch and Reid aren't bringing anybody and I'm pretty sure neither is Emily."

"Pretty sure?" I questioned.

"I will go make sure." She said and I nodded as she walked out of the room to make the call.

Sighing, I grabbed my phone as well and attempted calling Ellen for what felt like the millionth time. To my surprise, she actually picked up.

"What?" The familiar, grumpy voice said and I couldn't help but smile.

"Ellen?" I asked. "It's me. Diana."

"Hey, girl." She said, and I could hear the smile in her voice despite it all. "How are you doing?"

"I'm… actually doing pretty well, considering the circumstances." I admitted. "That is partly why I called. I know it's ages away, but what are you doing on July 12th?"

"July 12th?" Ellen questioned. "Girl, I don't know what I'm doing next Sunday. Why?" She added suspiciously. "What's on July 12th?"

"I'm…" Blush rose to my cheeks, like a teenage girl. "I'm getting married."

"Really?" She asked. I could tell she really was happy for me. "Who's the lucky fella?"

"His name is Daniel." I said. "We dated when I was at Harvard, and then I met him again here, and with this whole apocalypse thing coming we decided to get married while we can."

"Good for you." She said and I smiled. "Well, I know for certain that Jo and I will be there. Who else is coming?"

"Mostly, my team." I said. "A couple of Daniel's friend and Bobby. By the way, could you bring him with you? He… can't really drive right now and I need someone who won't hesitate to kick his ass if he tries to ditch me."

"No problems." Ellen said. "As long as your FBI friends won't pull any stunts on us."

"If you're not on the top of the FBI most wanted list, the only ones who would recognize you are Spencer and Rossi, and they both know."

"Rossi?" Ellen repeated. "You work with Dave Rossi?"

"You know him?" I asked.

"Course I know him." She said. "Know him _really well_, if you know what I mean."

"Okay, not something I wanted to hear about my godfather." I said, disgusted, just as Garcia walked back to the room. "I gotta hang up now, waiting to see you."

"Sure thing, kiddo." She said and hung up.

I smiled, thinking that even after all those years, I'm still a kiddo for her, just like Bobby will always be my Uncle Bobby.

"What didn't you want to know about your godfather?" Garcia questioned as she took her place in front of me.

"I was just on the phone with Ellen." I explained. "She and Jo would be coming and making sure Bobby arrives, too. And apparently, she knows Rossi _really well_."

"That would be amusing to see." She laughed. "So Emily's not bringing any plus one, and we know Ellen, Jo and Bobby are coming. You see? Things are already getting better."

"Yeah." I said, trying my hardest not to think about the fact that my brothers weren't even speaking to each other, or me. "Things are getting better."

* * *

><p>A couple of weeks later, we were heading back from one of the most difficult cases we ever had.<p>

We were tracking down an Unsub in Canada, one that targeted people who were living in the streets. Even with all of our speculations, we couldn't be prepared for what we found. 89 victims, all killed in a madman's attempt to cure himself, using his brother to do so.

We were each sunk into our own thoughts when we returned to Virginia, and I had forgotten I had to go to Hotch's house to set protections until he reminded me in a voice that said that he, too, had other things on his mind.

I came with him nonetheless, following him to the small apartment he lived in, alone now that Haley left with Jack. Neither of us were really focused, or we might have noticed the small signals that meant someone else was in here as well.

Hotch threw his keys on the table next to the door thoughtlessly, and put his bag nearby. He walked towards the kitchen where he put his gun and badge on the table before pouring himself a drink.

I was a couple of steps away at the most, but I wasn't really paying close attention when the hooded figure neared us. It was the clicking of a revolver hammer being pulled back to the cocked position that brought me back to reality and I looked up, seeing Hotch slowly turning around.

"You should have made a deal." The man said, before pulling the trigger.

My hand automatically reached to my own gun and I pulled it out, pointing at the hooded figure. It took me a moment to focus my gaze and realize that he hadn't shot Hotch after all.

"Don't bother, Agent Chess." He said. "You know it wouldn't work on me." He turned his attention back to Hotch. "Is this part of my profile? You can't show me fear?"

"If you don't see fear, maybe it's because I'm not afraid of you." Hotch replied.

"You said that like you actually meant it." The man said. "I suppose Chessi here didn't tell you the whole of it."

I fought against the urge to take a quick breath when I realized. "Foyet." I mumbled.

"Diana." He replied. "Now why don't you put the gun down, sit on that chair and let Agent Hotchner tie you to it?"

"And why should I do that?" Hotch asked.

"Because she knows just what I'm capable of." Foyet told him. "And I'd hate to kill or turn a pregnant woman. Tell me," he said, "what do you think would happen to the baby? I really need to find out one day."

"Why shouldn't I kill you right here and now?" I asked, trying to hide my fear.

"Because you can't." He said. "We both know that if you had dead man's blood, or a lovely machete nearby, I'd be dead. I must admit," he chuckled, "I wasn't expecting you to be here. But I will surely not let it interrupt with my plans."

Hotch sent me a quick glance and I nodded as I let go of my gun and kicking it towards Foyet. He picked it up, still pointing the other one at Hotch, and marked my fellow agent towards one of the chairs. Hotch put me in it and tied me tightly using a sheet Foyet threw at us.

"_We're playing right to his hands_." He whispered.

"_If he wanted us dead, we'd be dead by now_." I whispered back.

He nodded and backed away, allowing Foyet to check the ties. He tightened them even further, to the level I was certain bruising would remain, before looking back at Hotch. He pulled off his mask, surely wanting us to see the smile on his face, when Hotch attacked.

He stormed at him and punched him in the face, only pushing him slightly backwards before Foyet fought back. The vampire was by far more skilled as he grabbed him and threw him at the ground.

"Hotch!" I called when Foyet kicked him face, sending him backwards before hitting him with the barrel of the gun and tossing it aside for the favor of a knife.

"So tell me," he said, leaning in by his side, "if I wanted you dead, would I use this?"

Hotch didn't even have the chance to answer before the knife was plunged into his abdomen.

Once, twice, again and again, each time accompanied with a grunt from Hotch. I didn't even bother screaming after the fifth time, just waiting for it to be over. When it was, Foyet leaned in and turned Hotch so that he would be in my eyesight. Then, he leaned in and started drinking the blood that tricked from his wounds.

Disgusted, I closed my eyes, only causing the vampire to laugh.

"You think this is bad?" He asked. "Just wait for what I would do to you. Not today," he added, nearly as an afterthought, "it would be much more satisfying to kill your husband and baby first."

"Stay away from my family!" I growled, standing up and turning around to break the chair on him.

Foyet stood right up, unaffected, and grabbed my hand until it twisted in an uncomfortable angle, pinning me to his body.

"You have two options now." He whispered in my ear. "You can either help me get Aaron here to a hospital, come with me and maybe live another day, or you can keep putting up a fight and you both die."

"Why would you take him to a hospital?" I asked.

"I want him to know," Foyet said, clearly smiling, "that I control his life or death."

A glint of victory rose inside me. I wouldn't say it out loud, not wanting to make him change his mind, but giving me this choice, Foyet put me in control of the situation. Rookie mistake. But I was going to use it for as long as I could.

"What do I need to do to keep you away from my family?" I asked. "All I want to do is keep them safe."

_That's it._ I told myself. _Make him think he's got control, when he doesn't. Make sure _you_ win this round._

"I want you to come with me." He said. "Join me."

"What's so special about me?" I asked.

"Nothing." Foyet said. "At least, I didn't think there was something, until I saw your conversation with the angel the other day. The Child of Creation, now at my mercy."

Great. Another player to add to the everlasting list of those who want to use me. but he also reminded me of something I had forgotten – my lessons with Gabriel. Carefully, I focused on bringing a knife to my hand.

"Stand in line." I said. "Lucifer and Michael called dibs."

"So I've heard." He said, his eyes darting towards the kitchen counter before hitting me in the head, hard. "I guess I won't get you today." He said." But you won't kill me today, either."

And with that he hit me again, sending me unconscious.

* * *

><p>I came back to my senses an unknown time later in a hospital bed. Cringing my head to the left, I could see Hotch, a nurse instructing him to calm down.<p>

"What happened?" I croaked, before realizing my voice wasn't working. "What happened?" I asked again, causing the nurse to look at me.

"You got knocked pretty hard and an internal bleeding started." She said. "The baby is alright, but we had to sedate you because you kept opening your stiches. It looks like you had nightmares."

"Yeah." I said, thinking about all of the horrors I see in my dreams. "I usually do." My mind was running a thousand miles per hour, and I had to figure out so many things. "The baby?"

"Safe and well." The nurse said.

"Daniel?"

"On his way." Prentiss said from the door.

"Fo –" The name seemed to be stuck in my throat, the way even Lucifer's didn't. "Foyet?" I whispered.

"Escaped." Hotch said bitterly. "And he's after Haley and Jack."

"He's going after our families." I said. "He wanted me to know he'll be coming after my family."

"We'll protect them." Prentiss said.

"How?" I asked. "With all that is going on, how will I ever be able to protect my family?"

Even though only Hotch and I knew the whole story – Apocalypse, Demons and Angels – nobody seemed to have an answer.

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:**** Sorry about the delay again... It doesn't mean I love you any less!**

**I was really frustrated, even when I finished the chapter, cause I dodn't have a quote,but then I remembered the one you can see up there and it seemed fitting so I put it.**

**Hopefully I would get the next chapter done by Sunday, but just so you know - it's time for a wedding!**

**Sneak peak:**

"Everything's going to be terrible."

I stood at my room, morning of my wedding, three months pregnant. The make up was already in place and my hair was perfectly arranged. And I am having a panic attack in front of Spencer and Penelope. My heart rate was over the roof and I was shaking.

"Everything's going to be terrible." I repeated. "I just know it would. The… the dress is going to be too small. Too big. It's not going to fit. Oh, God. What was I thinking? Having a wedding while pregnant? We should have done it sooner. Or later. Or when I'm not friggin pregnant."


	17. Weddings

**A/N: So I know the last couple of chapters were rather short and I would like to apologize in advance because this one is pretty short, too. They were mainly filler chapter (I know, I know, but you need to have them every once in a while).**

**This one is a chapter I had planned since I started writing An Opening Match, but actually writing it turned out to be more difficult than I thought it would be.**

**The next chapter is based on th episode 'The End', and I already have it written, it's about 4.5K words, possibly more but no less. It also has _Dean_ in it ~Finally~ but, of course, things aren't simple when you're a Winchester.**

**I would also like to take a moment and appreciate the fact that there's someone whose penname here at is _Carver Edlund_, and that they ttok the time to read this, review, and follow 'An Opening Match'. If you're reading this - know that you made my day!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Criminal Minds or any song mentioned in this chapter/story/at all.**

* * *

><p><strong>"I believe in a traditional wedding,<br>With one guy, one girl,  
>And one dad with a shotgun."<br>Jarod Kintz, ****_Sleepwalking is Restercise._**

"Everything's going to be terrible."

I stood at my room, morning of my wedding, three months pregnant. The make up was already in place and my hair was perfectly arranged. And I am having a panic attack in front of Spencer and Penelope. My heart rate was over the roof and I was shaking.

"Everything's going to be terrible." I repeated. "I just know it would. The… the dress is going to be too small. Too big. It's not going to fit. Oh, God. What was I thinking? Having a wedding while pregnant? We should have done it sooner. Or later. Or when I'm not friggin pregnant."

The look on Penelope's face was almost amused. "Are you done?" She asked.

"Done?" I repeated. "How could I be done? The dress is clearly not going to fit –"

"You haven't even tried it on." Spencer noted.

"– I'm nauseated –"

"Drink some water and it will pass."

"– and all I can think about is pickled onions." I finished, ignoring their comments. "I… I don't know. This was a bad idea, a _very _bad idea."

"Is this having second thoughts about the wedding?" Garcia questioned.

"No!" I said. "I love Daniel, and I'm happy to marry him. Just… why did I have to be pregnant?"

"Because life sucks." Garcia said and I looked up at her, shocked. "What? You got knocked up. Happens to the best, just look at JJ. But you _love_ Daniel, and he loves you. Do you think he cares if you walk down the aisle with a not-fitting dress? All he cares is that _you_ walk down the aisle."

I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself before looking up at her.

"Thank you." I said. "I needed it."

"I know you did." She replied, smiling. "That's why I'm your maid of honor. Now, let's solve the problems one by one."

"I have an idea how." Spencer said. "Gabriel, do you mind coming here for a couple of moments?"

"What?" The angel asked as he appeared in front of us. "I was just talking to the hottest bridesmaid I had ever seen, excluding present company, of course." He added, wary of Garcia.

"I've seen who you were talking to." She said, laughing. "Prentiss will eat you alive."

"We'll never find out now, will we?" He questioned with a wink. "What'd you need?"

"The bride is afraid the dress won't fit." Spencer said.

"Easy-peasy." Gabriel said with a smile. With a click of his fingers, I was wearing the dress, which was a perfect fit, of course. "Anything else?"

"Pickled onions." I mumbled and they appeared in front of me.

I looked at them, and then at Gabriel before rushing to him and giving him a hug.

"Thank you, so much." I whispered in his ear. "For everything."

"No problem." He said seriously, returning the hug. "It's your wedding day. Go have fun."

"The ceremony is in twenty minutes." Garcia said. "I'm on the phone with Ellen, they should be here by then. Can I leave you alone or would you try to run out the window?"

"You can leave me here." I said, laughing as they left.

When I was left alone, however, I sunk back into my dark thoughts. Bobby wasn't returning my calls during the past couple of weeks, and I didn't know what to take of it.

I stood up and started stepping back and forth in my room, trying my hardest to ignore the small, passimist voice inside my head.

_Maybe he's injured._

_Maybe he's dead._

_Maybe he's worst than dead._

_Maybe he just got stuck in traffic._

_Maybe he couldn't come._

_Maybe he doesn't _want_ to come._

There was a knock on my door and I froze.

"Bobby?" I asked hopefully.

"Sorry, girl. Only me here." Rossi walked inside and paused, staring at me. "You look marvelous." He said.

"Thank that to Gabriel and Garcia." I said. "All I can think about is what will happen to the dress if I have to fight something."

"You won't need to fight anything." Rossi promised. "It's your wedding day. Nothing's gonna happen."

"At least not with the holy water in every drink, the salt under the windows and the devil's traps under the floor rags." I commented.

"I still can't believe you found a wedding venue owned by hunters." Rossi chuckled. "Don't you think you're taking it a bit over the line?"

"Nice to meet you, Diana Chess." I said. "Raised by Bobby Singer, a paranoid bastard."

"Speaking of the bastard, where is he?" Rossi asked.

"I don't know." I sighed. "I keep imagining the worst case scenario."

"Everything's gonna be fine." He said. "This is your wedding day. And it's gonna be perfect."

"If only I could believe it." I said bitterly.

"Why wouldn't it be perfect?"

"Because it already isn't." I said simply. "My wedding day should have Sam, talking nerdy with Spence. It should have Dean, hitting on every bridesmaid and waitress. It should have my dad, walking me down the aisle and Ash, laughing at how ridiculous I look with a dress. And it should have Bobby."

"It _will_ have Bobby." Rossi noted.

"Not if the idjit won't be here soon."

"Who're you calling an idjit, idjit?"

A smile jumped to my face as I turned towards the voice.

"Uncle Bobby!"

He rolled his wheelchair towards me and I jumped at him, giving him a hug.

"And will ya stop calling me 'Uncle Bobby'?" He asked, returning my hug. "I feel old enough as it is, Peanut."

I laughed and let go of him. "Sure, ol' man." I said with a smile and he shrugged.

"Why do I even bother?" He asked before noticing Rossi was also in the room. "Dave." He said politely but nothing more.

"Bobby." Rossi replied in the same tone.

"Oh, will you two grow up?" I asked. "It's my wedding day. Please, just for today, behave."

"Fine." They sighed together, which caused me to giggle and them to glare at each other.

There was a knock on my door and an eager-looking Garcia shoved her head in.

"Everyone is seated and waiting just for you." She said. "Do they...?" She looked between Rossi and Bobby.

"I should go settle down." Rossi said, leaning to kiss my cheeks. "I'll see you soon."

Garcia nodded and opened the door further away, allowing enough space for him to get out, and I was left with a confused looking Bobby.

"Where's he going?" He asked.

"To take his place, of course." I replied.

"Shouldn't he be walking you down the aisle?"

"Course not!" I said. "You're walking me down the aisle. Come on," I added to the look on disbelief on his face, "you practically raised me, Uncle Bobby. D'ya really think I'd let anyone else hand me over?"

"I don't know." He admitted. "I thought you wanted to walk down the aisle with... You know. Someone who can walk."

I sighed. "You're an idiot, you know?"

"What?" He asked.

"Can't you see?" I questioned. "Nobody cares, except you. It doesn't matter - not to Dean or Sam and definitely not to me."

"So..." He hesitated. "You still want me to walk you down the aisle?"

"Alright, let's make it clear." I said. "You're walking me down the aisle whether you like it or not, okay? This is my wedding day and the bride always gets what she wants. Now come on." I smiled at him. "Everyone's waiting."

Bobby and I went down and stood at the doorway to the hall, where everybody were already seated and waiting for us to come in. The classic bride melody started playing and my bridesmaids – Penelope, JJ and Prentiss, since Jo threatened to kill me if I put her in a dress – walked in one by one until it was only us left.

"Nervous?" He asked.

"Excited." I said. "Daniel wouldn't let me hear the down the aisle song. It's the only music I had absolutely no control over, and Rossi wouldn't tell me what it is."

"Isn't it this?" He asked, talking about the tune that was now playing.

"No." I said. "But since it's time to come in, I guess we're gonna find out soon."

I put my hand on the wheelchair's armrest and we entered the hall, the music stopping as we did and a new song playing. I couldn't help but smile as I heard the familiar song, and my heart warmed, washing away every fear I had when I saw Daniel standing by one of his friends and looking at me.

_"And you can tell everybody_  
><em>That this is your song.<em>  
><em>It may be quite simple<em>  
><em>But now that it's done."<em>

The look on his face was one to remember, and I could almost see the love vibrating away from him, as if displaying the words of the song on his face.

_"I hope you don't mind,_  
><em>I hope you don't mind,<em>  
><em>That I put down to words<em>  
><em>How wonderful life is<em>  
><em>While you're in the world."<em>

"We are here today to cherish the beautiful union between a man and a woman." The priest said but I was only half listening, my entire attention was on Daniel.

His face were stretched in a big, beautiful smile, and I couldn't help but wonder – is this really it? Did I really get a fairytale-like happy ending? Can it be possible that it's real?

"Say your vows." The priest said and Daniel looked into my eyes.

"When I first met you, I was shocked." He said. "You were so young, and already left so much behind. When we were first dating, I felt like the luckiest man in the whole world, until I made the stupid mistake of leaving you. I vow to mend for that mistake, starting now, and for the rest of my life."

My eyes shone with tears of happiness as I spoke.

"Every day I spend with you, is like a day from a dream. And I keep waiting for someone to wake me up, but time and time again, I don't. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, living in that dream. Cause it's the best I had ever had."

"Do you, Daniel Andrew McCloud, take Diana Chess, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

The look of love in Daniel's eyes was simply too good to be true. "I do."

"And do you, Diana Millie Chess, take Daniel McCloud, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do." I said, meaning every word of it.

"You may kiss the bride." The priest finished and Daniel pulled me into a long, passionate kiss before we broke away and fell into the congratulations of our friends.

* * *

><p>I danced with everybody.<p>

Daniel and I danced to the sound of what had already become our song – Elvis Presley's "Falling in love with you" – I danced one father-daughter dance with Rossi – "Eternal Flames" by The Bangles – and all but forced Bobby to have a father-daughter dance with me as well – to the sound of Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World". Even Gabriel stole me for a dance – "Let's Dance", a song I was _certain_ was not on the playlist I arranged.

I was heading to the bar to grab myself a glass of water before I return to being with everybody when I saw him.

He was standing in the middle of the room, standing out between all of the suits with his worn out trench coat. My breath hitched in my throat in shock, but nobody else seemed to notice his presence.

Or, at least, so I thought.

A static noise filled my mind – not my ears but _actually _my mind – and through it, I could hear words in a beautiful voice that sounded almost like singing.

"… not… away…"

And an equally beautiful voice replied.

"… don't… watching… protect."

"… safe." Said the first voice again. "… keeping… safe… can."

"… Is not enough!" The other voice said angrily.

_What the hell is that? _I thought and Castiel turned to look at me, surprise in his eyes.

"… Hear us." One of the voices said.

"… can… is… Creation!"

I looked around and saw Gabriel leaning on the bar and looking straight at Gabriel, a mask of carelessness on his face but his eyes focused.

"… safe." The first voice, which must have belonged to him said. "… teaching… powers… protecting…"

Castiel looked at me as he replied. "… Sure?"

"Yes."

Cas nodded once, very slowly before looking at me with a sad look, something that almost reminded me longing before he disappeared. Immediately, I ran to Gabriel.

"What was that?" I asked him angrily.

"It seems like Cas was planning to crush your party." Gabriel replied.

"Not that." I said, annoyed. "The thing. With the talking in my head."

"Enochian." He said simply.

"Enochian?" I repeated. "The language-of-angels Enochian?"

"The one and only." Gabriel replied. "It's just one of those things that happens. The more you use your powers, the more of our real forms you can see and hear. Didn't you notice that my halo grew bigger in your eyes?"

I observed him for a moment before I realized he was right. I didn't see it before, since it happened gradually, but his halo grew bigger. _It would probably grow even bigger with him being an Archangel and all._ I thought to myself.

"Was that the reason nobody else could see Cas?" I asked. "Because nobody else…"

"Only angels can see other angels when they're invisible." Gabe said. "And, apparently, you."

"That's so weird." I mumbled.

"Get used to it, darling." He replied. "Because as our lessons will go on, it would only get worst. Are you ready for it?"

"You know I am." I told him before heading back towards Daniel.

"Hello, Mrs. McCloud." He said, smiling. "I was looking for you."

"I'm right here." I said. "And… you do know I'm not gonna take your name, right?"

"Figured that much." He said. "Now, I noticed you had yet to introduce me to those two beautiful ladies." He added, marking at Ellen and Jo.

"Ellen and Jo Harvelle." I said. "Though they are more than capable of introducing themselves. Each of them can also kick your ass if she feels like it."

"I bet they can." Daniel smiled. "Let me guess. Sisters?"

"Let me guess, suck up?" Ellen replied. "Don't try that on me, boy, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Ellen." Rossi said, appearing as if from nowhere. "I thought I heard your lovely voice."

"Stuff it, old man." She said.

"Care for a dance?" He smiled at her.

"With you?" She asked. "Always."

"Am I the only one who's finding it weird?" Jo asked.

"No, you're not." I replied and we both burst into laughter while Daniel looked at us, a somewhat confused look on his face.

* * *

><p>After everybody went home, Daniel and I went to our honeymoon in Miami, where we spent most of our time in our room at the hotel. We went to the beach and swam in the warm water, ate in small cafés near where we were staying and enjoyed ourselves.<p>

For the whole of the week of our honeymoon, I had managed to forget about everything else – murders, demons and the Apocalypse were all tossed aside in favor of simply relaxing with my husband.

After we went back to Virginia, I went back to work, but it was all very calm since my doctor said I was not allowed to be put in any stressful situations. I helped Garcia at the office, researched from afar and gave the team my thoughts about the cases we were working. I used my spare time to go across the cases in JJ's office, sending those who involved the supernatural world to hunters I know.

Every night, I came back home to Daniel.

I kept contact with Chuck, and he informed me of everything that Sam was going through, since he and Dean still weren't in talking terms. At one of our conversations, he mentioned the books he never got to publish and I contacted Garcia, who immediately started finding ways to start publishing again, since he was still writing.

Everything was starting to make sense. I worked endlessly with Gabriel and improved my skills, learning – remembering, as he said – to speak Enochian and developing my skills.

Things were good.

One day, at the end of August, I was making myself coffee at the bullpen area. We were just working the third urgent case in a row, and I felt like if I were to stay without coffee much longer, I'd fall asleep.

I was holding the warm cup in my hand, reaching out the other one to open the door to Garcia's office when I felt a pull.

There was bright light and a sickening feeling before I found myself standing in a dump. I looked around, confused, and headed towards one of the nearest buildings, that were still standing.

On my way, I passed wrecks of cars and dead bodies. I cringed my nose at the smell and looked into the building. The place seemed like it was once a shop, on better times, but I couldn't pinpoint what type of shop. Sighing, I turned around and looked at the street I was in.

One thing was certain – I was nowhere near Quantico.

Shotguns were heard and I took out my own, ready to attack if necessary, when a familiar figure approached.

My breath hitched in my throat as I took in what my eyes were seeing and my brain was refusing to realize.

A couple of years older, maybe, having a great, bright halo to her and dirt all over her clothes and face but there was no doubt. I looked at her, and she looked at me back, identical green eyes locking onto one another.

I was looking at myself.


End file.
